


A Series of Fortunate Events

by angelastjoan



Series: Fortunate Events [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Hunger Games (2012) RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Rape, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 148,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelastjoan/pseuds/angelastjoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter 19 1/2</p><p>
  <b>Patient Name: Stormy Seasons | Age: 27 |  Session 4 | January 15, 2014.</b>
</p><p>3:28 p.m.</p><p>“Stormy, would you like to sit?”</p><p>“Oh.  Uh, sure.  Okay.”</p><p>“There, isn’t that better?”</p><p>“Yeah.  Yes, I mean.  Yes, it is.”</p><p>“Would you like to start with pleasantries or jump right into it?”</p><p>“I guess we could just jump right in?”</p><p>“Are you asking me or telling me, Stormy?”</p><p>“Oh. Uh, I guess I’m telling you.  I mean, I am telling you.”</p><p>“Telling me what?”</p><p>“I would like to go ahead and start.”</p><p>“That’s better.  See how much more confident you feel when you exert your answers into statements?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>“Stormy.  I want to ask you how you are feeling now that Josh is gone.”</p><p>“I’m okay.”</p><p>“Just okay?  Have you slept through the night yet?”</p><p>“No, not yet.  Oh, wait.  Yes.  Okay, well, almost.  I almost did.”</p><p>“Without the aid of marijuana?”</p><p>“Oh, then no.”</p><p>“Nightmares?”</p><p>“Yeah.  I mean, yes.  Just that same one though.”</p><p>“The one where he leaves you.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you want to describe it to me?”</p><p>“Not especially.  I mean, it’s no different than usual.  I just don’t see what revisiting it over and over is going to do for me.”</p><p>“You might remember something, some small detail that could click everything into place.”</p><p>“I don’t want to describe it again.”</p><p>“Stormy –“</p><p>“I said no, okay?  Just drop it.  Next question.”</p><p>“That’s fine.  We’ll come back to it a little later.  For now can you tell me about your living arrangements?”</p><p>“You mean Mona?  Mona’s great.”</p><p>“And how is the moving process coming along?”</p><p>“We pretty much are moving right across the hall so we’re not bothering with packing.  We kind of just fill bags and take them over, unload and then repeat.  No stress.”</p><p>“During your last session you told me you were almost done moving.  Are you any closer than you were on Sunday?”</p><p>“I guess.  I mean.  Yes, I am.”</p><p>“Is there any room in particular you’re having trouble with?  Stormy?  Do I need to repeat-“</p><p>“No.  You really don’t.  I know what you’re doing.  You’re baiting me.  I get it.” </p><p>“Would you like to answer the question then?”</p><p>“Why not?  Of course I’m having problems packing up the bedroom.  I can barely look towards the door let alone step through it.  So yes, I’m having trouble with the bedroom in particular.”</p><p>“Your voice turned hateful for a moment.  Are you trying to regulate your emotions?  Because you don’t have to in here.”</p><p>“Please don’t tell me that.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because – because this is the one place I don’t want to let go.”</p><p>“Why not?  Stormy, you don’t have to monitor yourself in here.  You can say whatever’s on your mind.  That’s what I’m here for.”</p><p>“But not really.  You’re mostly here to pass judgment.”</p><p>“Is that what you think of me?”</p><p>“Isn’t – isn’t that your job?”</p><p>“No, Stormy.  My job is to help you help yourself.  In our first meeting I told you the steps you’d need to take to right yourself.  Or “fix yourself” as you call it.  I told you to forgive yourself and then forgive your offender.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“You told me you never blamed yourself and that you would never forgive – him.  Why do you think you don’t blame you?”</p><p>“Because I never did anything wrong.”</p><p>“Didn’t you?”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Well, you made a series of decisions leading up to the moment –“</p><p>“Nothing I did would ever give any person the right to rape and then beat me.  I may have kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt Josh, but I never felt like I deserved it.  I never once blamed myself.”</p><p>“And Josh?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Do you blame Josh for what happened?  Stormy?”</p><p>“Of – of course not.  Josh had nothing to do with it.  He didn’t.  Stop, please.”</p><p>“Stop what, Stormy?”</p><p>“Looking at me like you expect me to change my answer.  I never blamed Josh.  Never.”</p><p>“So you never felt like you were at fault.  And you never placed any of the blame on Josh.  All of the blame is on Adam.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Can you say his name?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Are we almost done here?”</p><p>“Stor-“</p><p>“Never mind, I’ll answer that for both of us.  We’re done here.”</p><p>“Stormy.  Miss Seasons.”</p><p>“WHAT?!”</p><p>“Please sit back down.”</p><p>“I’ll see you Sunday.”</p><p>“Miss- .“</p><p>Notes on subject<br/><i>Patient is easily aggravated at the mention of the attacker’s name.  Defensive to the point of anger over Josh.  Possible misplaced hero worship.  Recurring nightmare of abandonment present.  Next session: seeking approval.</i></p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**Stormy**

 

 

I close my eyes and lean my head back.  The smoke in my lungs is trapped for a moment and then I purse my lips and exhale a thick stream of purple and gray.  The colors break up over my head and disperse into the air in long wisps.

 

“Hey, do you mind if I-“  I open my eyes and look up to my left at the guy standing over me.  He lets the question hang in the air and it mildly amuses me.  A Red Stripe tank top and light wash jeans cover his compact frame.  His feet are shoulder width apart in reef flip flops and his hat is red with some type of emblem on it.  I shield my eyes with my hand and take another drag before passing the blunt up to him. 

 

He smiles and although I can’t see his eyes behind the aviator sunglasses, I have a feeling his eyes are just as mischievous as the dimples that flash in the corners of his mouth.  He pinches the hand-rolled between his thumb and index finger and takes two tokes, one right after the other.  His chest puffs out as he inhales deeply and I imagine he’s holding the smooth smoke in just as I did.  He exhales on a whoosh of air and sighs deeply.  He passes it back down to me and I hold up my hand.  “No rush.”

 

He motions down to the bare patch of grass beside where I’m sitting, legs stretched out in front of me.  I smile and wave him towards the empty spot.  The music coming from the speakers positioned around us are pumping out what sounds like a particularly strong guitar riff.  Santana has just come on stage. 

 

The stranger sits down beside me, his legs stretched out in front of him, one slightly bent in at the knee.  He takes another toke and smiles over at me.  I’m still shielding my eyes and he seems to notice this because he whips off his glasses with his free hand and passes them over to me. 

 

“Oh, I’m fine.  I don’t need-“

 

“Please, take them.  It’s the least I can do.” 

 

My hand lowers to retrieve the sunglasses and I gratefully put them on.  I groan in relief.  “Thank you.  I think I picked the worst place to sit.”  I can look over at him now without the sun glaring in my eyes and I blink really fast to make sure he is who I think he is. 

 

He inhales once again and then passes the blunt back to me.  His laugh after he exhales is eager and slightly stoned.  “That shit is amazing.  It’s so smooth.”

 

I find that extremely funny and I can’t help but giggle.  The laughter is catching and soon he leans his arm against me and claps his hands together as he laughs.  I press my shoulder into his, holding him up, while my body is shaking.  “I’m so sorry.  That’s just on my list of stuff that Peeta would never say.”

 

Josh finds that overly amusing and he raises his hands to cover his face while he laughs, a small snort escaping.  We’re both momentarily captured by the giggles and my hand waves the air around us while I try to settle myself down.

 

He finally sobers enough to sit back up straight and he wipes the wetness from his cheeks.  “Holy shit.  That was great.”  He laughs once more and grins over at me.  “My name’s Josh.” 

 

“Stormy.”  I hold my hand out and he takes it with his, pumping once.  At his raised eyebrows I grin and lean forward as if to impart some secret.  “My parents were total hippies.”

 

He nods, still smiling, as if impressed.  “That’s probably an understatement with a name like that.”

 

I lean my head back and laugh and my eyes land on a huge guy standing a few feet behind us but watchful all the same.  “Woah.”  My eyes travel up to the serious look on his face.  “Who the hell is that behemoth?”

 

Josh turns his head to look over his shoulder and then turns back to me, smiling.  I automatically hand him the blunt and his fingers brush against mine as he takes it.  “That’s Andre.”

 

“Wow.”  I let my head fall forward and glance over towards the man again.  “I feel like his name should be Tank or Bluto or something equally frightening.” 

 

Josh barks out a laugh that turns into a cough as smoke pours out of his mouth.  I raise my left hand to rub at his back as he holds a fist to his sternum and chokes on the smoke.  “Slow inhale through your nose.”

 

He follows my instructions and the coughs start to die down after the third breath he takes.  “Thanks.”  I drop my hand as he passes the blunt back to me.  “So what do you do, Stormy?”

 

“I’m between jobs at the moment.”  He looks at me sharply and I take a last hit off the blunt.  I offer it back to him and he takes a last hit and then stubs out the roach on the grass between us.  I blow a smoke ring and then exhale the rest of the smoke at the same time he does.  We’re both caught up in the way the smoke curls around in front of us and mingles.  I see him lick his lips out of the corner of my eye and I can tell he’s starting to get a little nervous.  His next question reaffirms my impression. 

 

“What are you taking a break from?”

 

I narrow my eyes from behind the sunglasses and stare off in the direction of the stage where Santana’s wrapping up their set. “Have you ever felt like maybe there is so much more out there than what you know?”  I think about what I just said and giggle, “Wow.  I must be really high.  I thought that would make more sense.”

 

Josh’s eyes are narrowed off in the distance and he chews at the corner of his lip.  “I think I know what you mean.”

 

I sigh and run a hand through my unruly blonde waves.  “That’s where I am.”

 

Josh smiles over at me and nudges me with his elbow.  “Well, you’re in good company.”

 

We talk for a long while about everything.  Our conversation runs toward The French Revolution, him going to AA meetings to research a role, and a debate on whether unicorns could have existed.  Eventually the sky darkens and the stars come out.  I hand him back his sunglasses and get up, grabbing my purse and swinging it over my shoulder.

 

He follows my lead and hooks the arm of his aviator’s into the front of his tank top.  I hold out my hand, “It was nice meeting you, Josh.”

 

He playfully slaps my hand away and opens his arms for a hug, pulling me to him tight.  “I had a lot of fun, Stormy.”

 

I lean back and look up at him, smiling.  “Me too, Hutch.  Good luck with everything.”

 

Josh places his lips against my forehead and then holds me at arm’s distance.  “And good luck finding yourself.”  He drops his arms and asks me for a pen.  I take a minute to dig through my purse, coming up with a Sharpie.  He holds my hand and writes out a strand of numbers across my forearm.  “Don’t be a stranger.”

 

I laugh and kiss his cheek, taking the marker back.  “Bye, Josh.”  I turn around and walk away, looking back only once at his catcall.  I can’t help but roll my eyes as he waves like a little kid.  I raise my hand in salute and the crowd closes in between us.

 

Late that night I rub between my eyebrows as I stare at the empty Word document open in front of me.  The number was no longer on my arm, having been scrubbed off almost immediately on my return home.  My mind is numb and I decide maybe tonight isn’t the night after all.  Instead I light a cone of incense and lay down across my bed, closing my eyes as the day catches up with me.  My smile, as I drift off,  is small and sweet and I wonder if it will all seem like a dream tomorrow.

 

**Chapter 1**

 

**Josh**

 

My name is being yelled at me from all sides and I smile and wave and turn my head towards the flashes.  Someone calls out my full name “Joshua Ryan Hutcherson” and my eyes automatically dart over to them.  A particularly blinding light goes off and I squint my eyes to alleviate the brightness.  Soon a hand touches my arm and I’m escorted a few more feet down the red, even though it’s actually a shade of yellow-gold, carpet.  The process begins again and I tuck my hands into my pockets as a reporter comes close to me.  She starts raising her voice to be heard above the crowd and I lean in to hear what she’s saying. 

 

“What’s your favorite part about shooting a movie?  Did you enjoy working with Francis Lawrence?”

 

My favorite part is being home and actually sleeping in my own bed.  Playing with my dog and having cook outs with my friends.  Instead I lick my lips and answer, “I think my favorite part is watching the script come together.  Really seeing it come to life.  And Francis…he’s amazing.  He had this vision and went for it.  I think we’re all really happy with the way it turned out.”

 

She reaches out and touches my bicep and smiles, turning her head conspiratorially towards her camera man, “A lot of your fans have been raving over your muscles.  You had to bulk up a lot more for Catching Fire than you did for Hunger Games.  Are you going to keep up with the workout routine?”

 

I half laugh and flex my arm for her.  Internally I roll my eyes and want nothing more than to pull my arm out of her grasp.  “I guess they’ll have to wait and see!”  Yeah, right, I think.  I’m not going back to the gym ever again.  We had just wrapped Mockingjay and I can’t wait to finish the press release and the other premier’s we have to attend for Catching Fire.  And I never plan to eat spinach again unless someone force fed it to me.

 

I’m being ushered away again and this time we’ve made it to the ‘Pen’.  The fans are clamoring over each other and I feel my face transform into a genuine smile.  I laugh and step forward, reaching my hands out into the crowd.  My chaperone hands me a pen and I start signing everything that is thrust at me.  A few pieces of paper with phone numbers scribbled beside names are passed to my hand and they immediately get tucked into my pants pocket.  They’ll be thrown away as soon as I am safely tucked into the building but until then I pretend to entertain the possibility of one lucky fan getting to spend the night with me.

 

It isn’t going to happen, ever, but they don’t need to know that.

 

In too short of a time I'm led away once again and I look back apologetically, smiling and waving.  My favorite part about these events is getting to really interact with my fans.  I am well aware that without them I wouldn’t have a job.  And while some of them scare me on occasion with their rabid fangirl’ing I can’t say I'm not at least flattered.  Sometimes I am sure the only reason I do interviews on the carpet is so my fans that can’t make it to an event can still have something to live through vicariously.  I am just entering the building when a hand lands softly on my shoulder. 

 

My head turns to the side to acknowledge the person and my mouth stalls on my greeting. 

 

“Josh?”  The woman in front of me laughs and drops her hand to her side.  “Holy shit!  I can’t believe it’s you.”

 

It takes me a moment to find words and even then I can’t make them travel from my brain to my mouth.  I finally choke out her name, “Stormy.”

 

She covers her smiling mouth with her hands and nods. 

 

I do nothing to stop the full blown laugh that surfaces as I reach for her and pull her close to me.  I'm oblivious to the cameras going off all around us.  My brain is still sluggishly processing the fact that a woman I had thought about on and off for the better half of year was finally in my arms.  “How are you?  How are you here?  Wow.”  I set her down and hold her at arm’s length.  The last time I had seen her, the only time I had seen her, she had been in a pair of well-worn bell bottoms and a tie-dye halter top.  The mental image I carry with me is of her smiling over at me with my aviator’s shielding her eyes from the sun.  Her long blonde hair had been down and loose and her right hand had been holding a blunt while she talked animatedly about The French Revolution.

 

She touches my arm and grins.  “I wrote a book!  All that time I took off- I finally did something productive.  I’m being published as we speak and the movie rights have already sold and I met Suzanne at a writer’s convention last month-“  She stops and laughs and moves forward as more people enter the building.  I grab her hand and pull her to the side out of the path of incoming actors and assistants and reporters.  She pushes a few stray hairs that have fallen in her face back behind her ear.  Her smile softens and her deep blue eyes crinkle at the corners.  “I’m so happy to see you.”

 

I smile back and pull her a little closer by the hand I have yet to let go of.  “I’m happy to see you too.”

 

Her eyes widen in surprise and her lips part as I start to lean forward.

 

A masculine voice calling her name causes us both to turn and her hand drops to her side.  “Stormy.  Hey, there you are.”  The man sidles up next to us and drapes an arm over her shoulders.  He holds out his free hand and flashes a row of perfectly white teeth in a smile.  “Hi, I’m Adam.”

 

“Josh.”  I reply, taking his hand in a quick shake. 

 

“I figured.”  Adam laughs and rubs Stormy’s arm with the hand wrapped around her.  “You’re Peeta.  Everyone knows you.”

 

I laugh off the statement and then turn my head towards where I can hear Jen and Nick talking on the other side of a crowd.  Stormy follows my gaze and when I turn back she meets my gaze with hers.  “We’ll let you get back to your friends.  I just wanted to stop and say hi.”  She shrugs Adam’s arm off from around her shoulder and steps forward, invading my space.  Her arms go around me and she presses her cheek close to mine.  “It was good seeing you again.”  Her whispered words make me want to close my eyes and turn my head to the left.  I want to feel my lips pressing to hers.  Instead I stay where I am, my arms hugging her back loosely.

 

I avoid eye contact with the man watching us and nod, my arms dropping from around her when she steps back.  “Maybe I’ll see you later.”  I say, stepping away from them.  Stormy hums and holds up a hand in a brief wave before turning to the man beside her.

 

The man that I wish were me.

 

 

**Stormy**

 

I sit beside Adam and watch the scenes on the big screen unfold in front of my eyes.  I barely hear his sigh and already I am annoyed.  A few moments later he shifts in his seat, knocking his knee into my leg.  I glare at him from the corner of my eye and then refocus my attention forward as Katniss takes a step back from Finnick while he pops a sugar cube in his mouth.  I smile, remembering the uproar of Sam Claflin getting the part as the District 4 tribute.  I have to admit though, he has done a wonderful job of pulling it off.

 

Adam tenses next to me and then reaches his hand into his pocket to pull out his phone.  In the nearly dark theater it is glowing like a strobe light and I grab it before he can slide his thumb across the screen to bring up the message.  I shove it into my purse and put my purse back under my seat.  He’s staring at me, stunned, and I slowly turn to face him, letting my emotions play across my face.  He pulls back and quickly returns his attention to the screen in front of us.

 

How many times was I going to get invited to a movie premier?  And no less to a movie I actually want to watch.  A few minutes pass with no movement to my left so I get comfortable and curl my legs under me, hunching down in the seat.  I’m mesmerized when Josh comes on screen.  Peeta is talking to Haymitch and looking down at something with so much emotion packed into one single look.  His acting skills are amazing and I’m so proud of this man that I spent just one day with.  A half an hour passes and Adam shifts next to me, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

 

“I thought this movie was supposed to be good.”

 

I clench my jaw and ignore him.  I knew he wouldn’t like this series and when I tried to explain to him what they were about he had laughed and shrugged and said it would be fun to go.  I was pretty sure he just wanted to come to the premier.  It likely wouldn’t have mattered what movie was playing.

 

Earlier when we had arrived I had been waved onto the carpet.  I had stepped back and politely declined.  I wasn’t famous enough or interesting enough to walk a carpet, let alone one for a movie of this caliber.  Adam had tried to persuade me but I had ignored his attempts and just followed a group of nobodies around to the side entrance.  He had sulked, but he had complied.

 

I had stepped outside to talk to Suzanne Collins who had graciously invited me when out of the corner of my eye I had spotted a familiar face.  I had known that there was a possibility we would run into each other but I hadn’t expected the warmth deep inside me to spread through my extremities upon seeing him again.  It was a surprising yet welcome feeling and I had immediately excused myself to approach him, inadvertently leaving Adam behind.

 

Adam and I had met a few days after the Santana concert.  He lived off of a trust fund and he was a philanthropist.  He drank in moderation and did not approve of my extracurricular activities with marijuana.  He was a grown up in so many ways where I was still a kid.  At the age of 27 I had decided that I probably needed a better influence in my life.  Now I listened to classical music, I went to high end piano bars and my taste in wine had gotten more expensive. 

 

To Adam’s dismay I still wore my Chuck Taylor’s with everything, I loved dancing in the rain, and I still smoked weed when I wanted to.  It was while dating Adam that I had finally brainstormed the idea for my book.  I would disappear for days on end, glued to my laptop in my one bedroom apartment.  Adam was patient and understanding and when I finally finished writing my book three months later he was still there, waiting for me. 

 

“Selling Out” had yet to hit shelves and it was already on backorder.  The movie rights had already been bought by Lionsgate and I was on a deadline to churn out at least two more books for the series.  I felt I owed a lot to Suzanne Collins.  I hadn’t originally intended to write a young adult novel but when the characters had taken that turn I hadn’t been able to figure out how to tweak it.  I sat in my room day after day, frustrated to no end.  Finally, one early Tuesday morning I grabbed my hoodie and my wallet and went for a walk.  It wasn’t long before I was standing outside of a bookstore and the sign in the window announcing a writer’s workshop hosted by none other than the famed author of the Hunger Games series was shining down on me like a sign from the Gods.

 

I had gone in and sat through her seminar.  In the meet and greet I explained my problem to her.  She had given me a few pointers and on my return home I had sat down, completely refreshed, and powered through the last few chapters of my story. 

 

I had taken a chance and emailed her, thanking her profusely for the advice to which she responded a few days later, thanking me for trusting her.  It was obscene how quickly I sold my book.  I had heard of people who wrote and never got published.  Even famous authors who had been rejected numerous times before getting their big break.  I sent a copy out to Scholastic and within the week I had been contacted about signing a six figure contract for two follow up books.  I had reached out to Suzanne once again to thank her and to tell her the news and she had congratulated me.  We met once again by chance while I was at the offices of Stacy Reed. 

 

I had just signed my book over to Lionsgate and I was on cloud nine when I got onto the elevator.  She was standing there, smiling at me.  I was speechless for a moment.  When I explained who I was and what had been happening she was just as excited.  She had been on her way out of the building and we ended up at lunch, talking about everything happening in our lives.  I expressed my doubts on being able to write two more books and she talked courage into me.  She frowned over some changes being made to the Mockingjay script to which I assured her it couldn’t be any worse than leaving out Peeta’s fake leg.  She laughed over that, admitting that was probably true, and we fell into an instant camaraderie.

 

My life didn’t change so much as I felt I had changed on the inside.  I had finally hurdled over that last impossible challenge in my life.  And when I resurfaced Adam was there to celebrate with me.  Our relationship had morphed into something I hadn’t been expecting and wasn’t sure I was ready for but I held on to him because he reminded me of my life before my bank account had bloomed.  When I was a simpler person. 

 

When the movie ended I applauded along with the other movie goers.  Adam was yawning and reaching for my purse to retrieve his cell phone.  The lady next to him turned and exclaimed, “That was better than the first one!  I can’t wait for Mockingjay.” 

 

To which Adam looked down at her for a moment and then looked away. 

 

I rolled my eyes and then leaned past him to reply, “Jena Malone was amazing.  And Philip Seymour Hoffman?”  We giggled like two little girls and she commented that Peeta was still her favorite to which I agreed.  On our way out of the theater and into the lobby we chatted as if we were long lost friends, the way only true fans can.  We parted ways at the exits and I stopped when a soft hand landed on my shoulder.  I turned and grinned reflexively at Josh standing behind me. 

 

“So, what did you think?”

 

I clapped my hands together and laughed.  “It was amazing.  I loved it.  And the beach scene?”  I fanned myself with my hands.  “Wow.”

 

Josh laughed and nodded towards where the rest of the cast lingered.  “We’re heading to the after party soon.  I was just coming over to invite you and Adam.”  He looked around and frowned. 

 

I followed his gaze and when I saw Adam in the corner on his phone I bit into my lip.  “I have a feeling we’re going to have to skip the party.”  I turned back to Josh and smiled.  “Thank you for the invitation though.” 

 

Adam was texting as he came over to us.  “We gotta jet, babe.  Marco called to tell me that the St Tropez deal fell through so I need to do some damage control.”  He glanced up at Josh and smirked, “Way to go with the Peter thing.  You’re pretty convincing as a little kid.”

 

My eyebrows shot up as I looked over at Adam.  Josh’s lips were pressed together in a tight smile and he reached out for me.  I stepped forward into his arms and choked back a gasp as his arms enveloped me.  His hands ran down the back of my silk blouse and his fingers played at the top curve of my ass.  I was frozen in place, wondering what was going on as Josh said to me but loud enough for anyone close by to hear, “Do you still have my number?”

 

I flushed and ducked my head whispering hotly to him, “What are you doing?”

 

He just pulled back and grinned, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.  “Good.  Give me a call and we’ll get together for dinner sometime this week.”

 

He pressed his lips to my forehead just as he had all those months ago and then he was walking across the room to his friends.  He didn’t look back towards me. 

 

If he had I might have stayed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Stormy**

My stomach clenches in anticipation as Adam removes his cufflinks and drops them onto the dresser top.  I’m lying on my side; the ashtray with an unlit blunt is settled in a nest of blanket to keep it steady.  I flick the top open of my zippo and then shut it with my thumb.  I don’t smoke when Adam is over because he complains about the smell and the second hand effects it has on him.  I’m impatiently waiting for him to leave. 

 

He walks into the bathroom without once looking up at me and says, “I’m sorry if I behaved badly last night.”  My eyes are studying the weave of the comforter.  I don’t bother meeting his eyes as he comes back into the bedroom.  Flick, flick.  He glances down at my hand, raising an eyebrow.  “If you had seen how he was looking at you.  Well, he needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

 

I finally raise my eyes to his questioningly.  My confusion is genuine.  “What are you talking about?”

 

Adam laughs sharply, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.  “Are you serious?  That Josh guy.”  When I stare at him blankly he starts unbuttoning his shirt.  “I don’t know how you don’t notice these things.”

 

I roll my eyes and push myself up to sit against the headboard.  “I think you’re imagining things.  Josh and I met once a long time ago.  If he was looking at me in any weird way it was probably because we met under unusual circumstances and-“

 

My sentence is cut off when his phone rings.  He has already pulled an Abercrombie tee over his head and he’s kicking off his shoes.  He mouths an apology to me as he turns his back and answers his cell.  Glaring at his broad shoulders I reach for the blunt and roll it between my fingers.  I raise its length to my nose and smile wistfully as I inhale the sweet pine and rosemary fragrance of Pink Lady, a lovely strain of marijuana grown right here in California.  I’m rolling the ends between my fingers when Adam glances over at me, his eyes narrowed on my hands.  I have a moment of rebellion where I imagine lighting up and inhaling deep before blowing the smoke in his direction.  I don’t, of course.  I do love him and I respect his opinion on the matter even though I legally purchase my marijuana from local dispensaries and have had a prescription for nearly a year.  My phone vibrates on the nightstand and I reach for it without much thought. 

 

The number flashing has been blocked so I let it go to voicemail.  I’m not interested in conversation with strangers at the moment.  Right now all I want to do is get blitzed out of my mind and float freely while possibly coming up with a follow up story for “Selling Out”.  The chime on my phone alerts me that I have a new message and I ignore it as Adam ends his call.

 

“I’m going for a run.”  He’s already pulling off his slacks and tossing them to the hamper across the room.  He pulls on jogging shorts and changes socks and takes his time lacing his New Balances.  “Sure you don’t want to come with?”  I smile and hold up my hand-rolled.  He rolls his eyes and stretches his arms above his head.  “Fine, I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

I’m silent as I listen for the door to close.  As soon as I hear the latch I stick one end of the blunt between my lips and light the other.  I reach across the bed and slap the ‘Play’ button on my alarm clock, the sweet voice of Jim Morrison filling the room.  The first few puffs are quick to make sure the cigar paper catches fire.  Once I know it’s properly lit I take my time and close my eyes, relaxing back into the cushioned headboard.  I’m stretched out in nothing more than a wife beater and boy shorts, the comforter twisted near the foot of the bed.  My phone lights up with a reminder of my missed voicemail.  Sticking the wet end of the blunt between my lips I squint to keep the smoke out of my eyes as I unlock my cell and retrieve my mail on speaker.  After punching in the code I’m left listening to a lot of background noise. 

 

A man’s voice says, “Hey, Josh.  Whatcha doin’, mate?”  A muffled response follows and then his rich voice is battling The Doors for my attention.  I’m tapping the ash off the end of the blunt into the ashtray as he clears his throat.  “Hey, I hope this is you.  I got your number from Suzanne.  I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night.  I was really happy…”  His voice lowered until I leaned forward, straining to hear better.  There was women’s laughter that trickled through the earpiece and then the line went dead.  I replay the message twice, grinning.  I had just stubbed the end of the blunt out when Adam got back.  He was huffing to catch his breath, sweat stains spread across the front and back of his tee in large V’s.  I watch with raised brows as he strips down and pads nude to the bathroom.  I don’t even think before I raise my tank up and over my head and then shimmy out of my panties.  I follow him into the shower. 

 

His hands were rough as they grabbed me and pulled me close.  My right leg hitched high over his hip and he held it there with one palm under my thigh.  I moan as I lean forward and open my mouth over his right nipple.  My tongue rolls across the hardened bud and my hips push forward against his growing erection.  I’m a mass of trembling nerve endings by the time he pushes my back against the tile of the shower and glides into me.  My mouth is open, panting, while his lips and teeth play with the curve of my neck.  I’m closing in on a glorious orgasm when he whispers, “Promise you won’t talk to him.”

 

My eyes flutter open.  “What?  Who?”  He surges forward again, bumping my clit with his pelvic bone.  I squirm to adjust the friction and my eyes are slowly closing as I try to find ecstasy when he growls out another man’s name.

 

“Josh.  That’s who.”  I stop meeting his thrusts and stare at him uncomprehending as he takes my cue, stilling with his cock deep inside me.

 

My eyes narrow and I release my hold on his biceps.  I raise my hands to motion to where we are.  “Are you serious right now with this caveman shit?”  I purposely clench my vaginal walls around him to remind him of what we could be doing, not surprised when he groans low and shoves into me.  His hips pick up the pace and soon he’s grinding into me with abandon.  I want to tell him to slow down because I’m nowhere near that magical moment anymore but then he’s shouting my name and shaking against me.  I make cooing noises and run my hands across his back, soothing him. 

 

When he pulls out of me he smiles sheepishly.  “I’m sorry.  Did you-“

 

I shake my head and grab the bar of soap from the dish on the side of the tub.  “Nah, but it’s only fair, really.”

 

He takes the soap from me after I’ve worked up a good lather between my hands.  “Why would you say that?”

 

I rub my hands across my breasts, drawing his attention lower as I swipe a handful of suds against my abdomen.  “Well, I plan on talking to Josh.”  His eyes shoot up to mine and my hands dip lower into my blonde curls.  I lean a shoulder against the tiles where he’s just come inside me.  My fingers slide over the nub of my clit and I shiver.  “Honestly, we’ll probably hang out too.”  I press my palm between my legs and rub against it, my legs beginning to shake.  “After all, we’re having dinner this week.”  I plunge two soapy fingers into my cunt and come, pressing my lips together in a whimper.

 

When I dare open my eyes again Adam is already out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.  “Sometimes you can be such a bitch.” 

 

I can’t help the smile on my face as I rinse off under the hard spray of water.  Sometimes Adam needed a reminder that he didn’t own me.  And sometimes I just enjoyed being a bitch.

 

 

 

**Josh**

I ignore Avan’s watchful gaze as I slide my thumb across the face of my iPhone.  I can see him out of the corner of my eye.  Finally he moves down a stool until he’s sitting at the bar next to where I’m leaning.  “Call her.”

 

I flatten my lips and narrow my eyes on the widescreen TV across the bar.  The Giants are playing the Bears.  Avan’s elbow nudges my arm and I straighten from my spot.  “I’m not calling her.  She has a boyfriend.”

 

Avan shrugs and takes a pull of his beer.  “Fine.  But don’t bitch to me later when you’re sitting home all alone when you could be at least asking her to dinner.”  He makes a compelling argument. 

 

After I had watched her leave last night Suzanne had asked me how I knew her.  Our conversation about Stormy continued during the after party to which she gave me a motherly look, one of those all-knowing ones, and then casually asked me if I had her number.  I had replied that I did not and she had all too willingly passed it on to me.  Then Suzanne Collins had leaned over and patted my hand saying, “Stormy is an amazing young woman.  You have impeccable taste, Josh.”  I had laughed off her compliment and saved the number in my phone.  For nearly 24 hours I had been playing with the idea of calling her.  I knew it was driving Avan crazy but I just couldn’t go through with it.  I set my phone down on the bar behind me and held up a hand in greeting as Liam and Miley made their way over to us.

 

I was leaning back, elbows on the bar, in the middle of listening to Liam tell us about a script he had just read, when Avan’s hand came flying towards my face and all of a sudden my phone was pressed to my ear.  I heard the tail end of her outgoing voicemail, “…leave me a message and if it’s sexy enough I might call you back.”  Her tinkling laughter faded after that and then a beep sounded in my ear.  I was stunned for a moment, my jaw opening and closing as I tried to figure out what to say.  Chris, Liam’s older brother steps up to the bar and he puts a hand on my shoulder, shaking me out of my stupor, “Hey, Josh.  Whatcha doin’, mate?”

 

Avan answers for me, “He’s supposed to be asking this chick out to dinner but he’s too big of a pussy to make the first move.”

 

I roll my shoulders and glare over at my best friend.  After clearing my throat I say, “Hey, I hope this is you.  I got your number from Suzanne.  I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night.  I was really happy…”  My phone makes a garbled beeping noise and I pull it away as Chris’s wife shares a joke with Miley, both of them laughing out loud a few stools down.  I’m looking at the now dark screen of my iPhone.  I can tell the battery has died and I turn around on my stool and drop it on the bar in frustration.  “The battery life on this thing blows.”

 

“Call her when you get home.”

 

I look over at Avan and hold my hands up, “Dude, she has a boyfriend.  Drop it already!”

 

Avan looks away with a shrug and after a moment he glances back my way and smirks, “You’re going to call her again.”

 

I roll my eyes and look over at the Hemsworth brothers with their wives.  I want that someday.  And I can picture Stormy being that one for me.

 

Back in May when I had seen her sitting there on the lush, green grass of the lawn at the Levitt Pavilion, I had been less interested in the blunt she’d been holding and more intrigued by the casual reserve in which she toked.  The no smoking signs posted sporadically were pretty clear and walking along the grassy pathway with Andre right behind me I had smelled the fragrant aroma of weed smoke.  I had not actually seen anyone smoking until I saw her. 

 

She had this amazing waterfall of blonde waves falling nearly to her waist, it swayed back and forth in time to Santana’s _Soul Sacrifice_.  She had leaned her head back and blew a stream of smoke into the sky above her, shoulders still keeping beat to the music.  A back and forth movement that drew me in and before I knew it I had used the only line I could think of and motioned towards the hand rolled she was holding delicately between her index and middle knuckles.

 

Her eyes as she looked up at me and her inviting smile as she offered the blunt had sealed the deal for me.  I had written my number on her arm as a last attempt at flirting and I had actually been more than a little hurt when I didn’t hear from her for days.  I had honestly thought I had had a connection with this woman.  I was first and foremost a strong believer in falling in love with everything you had inside of you and I fell in love easily and often.  I had wanted her to be the last person I fell in love with.

 

A few days turned into a week.  That week turned into a month.  By the middle of July I officially drove Andre crazy asking him if I had imagined her.  Eventually he would just roll his eyes and tell me that there were plenty of fish in the sea.  Avan drew a picture of a stick person with blonde hair and blue eyes holding up a peace sign and made copies, posting them at the supermarket and taping them to park benches.

 

I didn’t think his idea would actually work, and it didn’t, but I appreciated his support.  Avan has always been a sucker for the whole soul mate idea and he was determined that Stormy was mine.  He said it was in the way my breath hitched when I talked about her.

 

He was right.

 

And now she had a fucking boyfriend.  Adam.  I take a swig of my beer and watch the game on the TV across the room.  I can’t imagine her with someone like him.  He was polish and spit shine showing up to a premier in his Armani suit and then there had been Stormy, her Converse clashing with the rest of her outfit and looking as amazing as I had remembered.  I had thought it was a sign.  Avan was absolutely sure it was.

 

That was how he knew I would call her when I got home.

 

It was just passing 1 in the morning when I fell backwards onto my bed.  I lay there for a moment, trying to talk myself out of it.  Maybe I could text her instead.  I groan and cover my face with my hands.  Avan is right.  I’m being a total pussy about this. 

 

I reach one arm across the bed towards my alarm clock and dig in my pocket for my dead phone with my other hand. After plugging it in I power it on and wait a minute for it to finish booting.  As soon as it comes fully alive in my hand I scroll through my contacts and find her name.  I press the call button and put the phone to my ear.  She picks up after two rings.

 

“Look, perv.  I don’t know who you are, but grow a set of balls and call me from a listed number if you want to harass me.”

 

The phone goes silent in my ear and I close my mouth slowly.  I try to think if Andre’s cell is unlisted as well because I know the house phone is.  Finally I decide to call her back and be quicker about it.  As soon as she picks up I yell, “It’s Josh!  Don’t hang up!”

 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end and then her laughter is right in my ear and my whole body shivers in delight.  It’s an amazing sound and it’s contagious, soon I’m huffing out a laugh as well. 

 

I can hear a man in the background, Adam I presume and then Stormy says, “It’s okay, it’s just my pervert.”  A door slams and then she’s back on.  “Hey, Josh.  What’s up?  I got your message but your number is private and I didn’t want to bother Suzanne tonight.”

 

I can’t keep the smile off my face as she speaks, “I was just calling to ask you if you wanted to grab dinner this week.”

 

I can’t see her but I can hear material rustling around and I imagine she’s in bed.  My body is on alert.  Her voice is smooth as she says, “That sounds fun.  Can we grab a burger?”  She laughs and says, “I’ve been craving a burger.”

 

It’s then that I realize she’s probably high and I can’t help but laugh in return.  “Are you high?”

 

“Yes!”  Her response is quick and honest and her giggle is muffled like she’s placed a hand against her mouth.  “But even if I wasn’t a burger would still be my top choice.”

 

I’m shaking my head, smiling.  “Okay, then.  Burgers it is.”

 

“Cool.”  The material rustles some more and then she yawns, her jaw cracking in the process.  “Sorry, I’m just so tired.  Hey, text me your number so I won’t hang up on you.”  I hear the flicking of something metallic in the background and then she says in a softer voice, “I’m glad you called, Josh.”

 

I put my left hand behind my head and sigh, “I am too.”

 

Her whispered goodnight is the last thing I hear and my body relaxes into the pillow top of my mattress.  I shoot her a text message with my number and after nearly a minute passes she responds.  It says, “Wednesday, Lucky Devils, 7 p.m.”  The winky face is what seals the deal.  Now I just have to figure out what to do for the next 48 hours so I’m not tempted to call her every second of the day.

 

 

_Sources:_

 http://www.studio4041.com/floorplans.asp

http://www.medicalmarijuanastrains.com/tag/california-medical-marijuana/

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Josh**

 

The last two days have been excruciating.  I’ve bitten my nails down to the quick and I’ve physically had to restrain myself from checking my phone every hour just in case she’s texted me.  I’m a 21 year old man that has been transported back to middle school.  My heart races when I think of her and my palms sweat at the thought of sitting across from her for a meal.  I’m a fucking wreck and the torture of silence for the past two days has only added to the crippling effect.

 

For the past 48 hours, Avan and Andre have both been keeping me busy.  I had been dragged along on a hike yesterday by Avan and his friend, Jane.  They had been playing around with a casual relationship for nearly a year and as far as I could tell they were content with their current situation.  Avan might be a romantic, but he was very upfront with women he became involved with.  The way they casually touched and the way Jane watched him pretty much confirmed that she was happy with the arrangement of friends with benefits.

 

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to enjoy something so open.  One night hook ups happened few and far between for me.  The women I had met in the last few years seemed to have this unrealistic idea about me being a sex god.  It wasn’t easy to live up to the expectations of being a movie star.  Especially in bed where your inhibitions are naturally lowered.  I tried to be a generous lover but there was only so much criticism I could take about my efforts. 

 

Today Andre had noticed me wandering aimlessly through the house and had challenged me to a game of one on one in the driveway.

 

I knew they were trying to dispel me of all the pent up energy I was storing.  I was anxious about dinner with Stormy and I couldn’t seem to sit still longer than a few minutes.

 

We had ended the game abruptly when we realized we were being photographed from the trees.  I had momentarily thought about reporting them to the police but it never seemed to do any good.  On our way inside, Andre had slapped me on the back and told me, “Good game.”

 

I smirked at him as I shot a stream of Gatorade into my mouth.  I gulped quickly and replied, “I kicked your ass.”

 

He rolled his eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter with his own sports bottle.  “Whatever, I let you win.  Didn’t want to send you out tonight on a down note.”

 

I laughed and threw a hand towel at him.  “Yeah, sure.  Keep telling yourself that.”  I emptied the rest of the drink into the sink and rinsed out my bottle.  Andre’s attention had strayed to the window and he stared out of it to the trees where the paparazzi had just been.  Andre wasn’t just my roommate.  I patted him on the back as I made my way out of the kitchen.

 

“I’m going to grab a shower.  Can you make sure Driver doesn’t dig around the fence when you let him out tonight?”

 

“I hear ya, boss man.”  And then I could hear him cooing and baby talking to the dog in question.  I shook my head and stripped once I got to my bedroom.

 

Walking naked into my bathroom I rubbed a hand across my abs. I was still in shape from training for and shooting Mockingjay.    A few days after the concert where I had met Stormy, I had dyed my hair blonde and been shuttled off to location for pre-production training.  Due to the complexity of shooting both parts of Mockingjay at once, I was away from home for longer than normal. We had just finished shooting in North Carolina last month, the week before my birthday.  I had barely been home a month and by Friday we would be flying over to Paris and on to New York for our premiers there.  For the next few weeks I was going to be swamped with travelling as well as the press junkets. 

 

Once it was all over, I wasn’t slated to work again until late January.  I was looking forward to spending the holidays at home as well as in Kentucky with my family.  More than that though, I was looking forward to dinner with Stormy and my muscles were coiled tight in suspense.

 

I started the shower and got under the spray, looking out the all glass enclosure at the surrounding forest.  It was one of my favorite things about my house and I loved the fact that I felt like I was one with nature.  I leaned my head back and let the warm water soak my hair.  I closed my eyes and suddenly there she was staring at me, lips parted in surprise.  I shut my eyes a little tighter, holding on to the drawn up image.  Her lips were full and pink and I groaned out loud as she swiped her lower lip with her tongue before glancing down my body and back up to my eyes. 

 

My hand wrapped around my cock and I leaned my shoulders back against the tile.  I imagined her biting her lip and taking a step closer.  I wanted to reach out and grab her at the waist, pull her closer until she was pressed tight to my body.  My dick throbbed as I slowly pulled my hand along the shaft.  My grip was gentler than usual, imagining her hands wrapped around me instead.  I grunted and thrust and slid my thumb across the head collecting drops of fluid.  Her mouth engulfed me in its warm depth and I said her name out loud, reverently. 

 

I picture her kneeling before me, water sluicing over her body, droplets of water caressing her full breasts as I thrust in and out of her mouth that is really my fist and I let myself go.  I lock my knees in place and my muscles coil tight before I come with a shout, her throat working to swallow every last drop of me. 

 

My breath is sawing in and out of my lungs and the windows all around me are fogged up from my panting.  I lean my head back under the spray once more and laugh out loud.  I’m royally fucked, and not in a good way.

 

I shaved after my shower and got dressed, deciding casual was probably in order since I was sure Stormy wouldn’t think of dressing up.  She didn’t consider this a date.  Which, it wasn’t.  I just wished it was.  I sighed as I pulled my Red Cinci hat on and grabbed my wallet.  Andre looked up from the couch where Driver sat patiently, waiting for a chip to fall in the floor. 

 

“Are you ready, man?”

 

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “We’re just grabbing burgers. It’s no big deal.”

 

Andre just raised his eyebrows at me.  “You’ve been waiting for this moment for months.  Months, Josh.”  He shook his head and mumbled, “I hope to god you jerked off.”

 

I picked up a piece of mail from the end table and flung it at him playfully.  It flew past his head and he barely flinched.  Driver glanced over at me and then back towards the food.  I shifted from foot to foot, waiting. 

 

When he just continued to stare at me, questioningly, I threw my hands in the air, “How do I look?”

 

His smile was slow and his reply was normal for Andre, “I thought it was just burgers.”

 

I turned and grunted my response, grabbing my keys on the way out.  “Don’t wait up.”

 

Andre laughed and replied something snarky. I could barely make out the words and I shut the door behind me.

 

Lucky Devil’s was a few minutes from my place and I made it there with time to spare.

 

I spotted her as soon as I walked up.  She was seated in the patio section in front of the restaurant, a ball cap pulled low over her eyes and her blonde hair hung loose in the wind.  She had on a t-shirt with Jimi Hendrix’s face stretched across her front and her jeans had seen better days.  Her legs were crossed at the knee and she swung one neon pink converse as her foot dangled above the ground.  She was leaning forward talking animatedly at an attractive gentleman who laughed at something she said.  I was a few feet away when she glanced over and her eyes caught on mine.  She was up and out of her chair immediately.  She walked into my arms, saying my name as she laughed and hugged me close.  She pulled back enough to smile up at me and I realized that I was a goner.  I had thought I could keep it platonic.  I had to keep myself from leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers.  I wanted to have the right to palm the back of her head and slant my mouth over hers, holding her in place while my tongue stroked against hers.  I shifted to my right leg and broke the hug. 

 

Stormy grabbed my hand with hers and turned to the gentleman sitting at our table.  “Josh, this is Lucky.”  She waited while we shook hands and then guided me to the seat beside hers.  She sat down and let go of my hand to grab her beer.  My fingers automatically formed a fist under the table, trying to trap the phantom warmth from her palm in my hand.  The waitress came and I ordered my beer, then listened as Stormy talked to the owner of the restaurant for a few more minutes.  When he excused himself she got up to give him a hug and he watched me from over her shoulder for a brief moment before throwing a wink my way.

 

My eyebrows shot up and I smiled hesitantly.  Then they broke apart and Stormy sat back down, turning towards me.  “Adam has been trying to get Lucky to invest in some project he has going.”  She takes a sip of beer and leans back in her chair, sighing.  I’m about to ask her if everything is okay when she breathes deeply and then smiles at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners and a dimple forming in the center of her left cheek.  “How have you been?”  She rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the air, “Obviously you’re doing great, but how are you?”  She touches my arm where the sleeve of my white tee ends and her fingertips graze my bare skin.

 

**Stormy**

I drop my hand from Josh’s arm and take another sip of my PBR.  I don’t think he’s noticed but my hand is trembling slightly from the contact.  It was entirely unexpected and I’m not sure what to do with this new information.  Back in May I had found him attractive and young and even though I knew who he was, I hadn’t been impressed. I still wasn’t.  Having celebrity didn’t make someone a worthwhile human being.  Sometimes it was just the opposite.  Josh, on the other hand, used his status for good causes and to promote many positive messages.  It stuns me when I think of what a difference one person can make and that he has played the role of that person repeatedly. 

 

Josh smiled as the waitress set his beer down in front of him and he asked her for a few more minutes to look over the menu.  The way her eyes lingered on him and her open body language made me smile over at him.

 

He caught me out of the corner of his eyes as he read over the choices.  “What?” There was underlying laughter in his voice and I grinned madly and propped my chin on my fist, elbow planted on the table.

 

“She wants you.”

 

Josh’s cheeks pinken and he smirks while shaking his head, “She was doing her job.”  He held up his beer as proof and took a healthy swig.  I waited for him to swallow before I said, “Eye raping you is not in her job description.”

 

Josh laughed aloud and stretched, putting his arm over the back of my seat.  “She wasn’t eye raping me.”

 

I glanced to the window where she’s watching Josh carefully in case he needs a refill or a fluffer.   My lips twitch and I take off my hat, shaking out my hair.

 

“Can I try your hat on?”

 

Josh shoots me a baffled look and shrugs, taking his cap off and fitting it on my head.  He’s smiling as he adjusts the bill.  The way he leans back to study his handiwork is adorable.  I glance to the waitress who is shooting daggers at me.  Josh follows my line of sight and laughs, clapping his hands in delight.

 

“You’re pure trouble.”

 

I nudge him with my elbow and grin before placing my Volcom cap on his head, adjusting it to fit him.  Josh’s face is serious for a moment and I wonder if he’s thinking about kissing me.  His eyes drop to focus on my lips and for a moment I’m frozen in place.  The waitress breaks us out of our reverie. 

 

Josh waits for me to order first and then as the girl is writing down his order, his hand on the back of my chair moves up to my shoulder and he gives me a small pull to invite me to settle against him. 

 

We watched the waitress falter and her eyes linger a little too long on his fingers as they tap out a beat on my arm.  She turned to leave abruptly and made her way back into the restaurant.

 

I laughed at Josh’s tactics and extracted myself from his grip.  He readily drops his arm back and says, “I’m good to answer your earlier question.  I’m just ready to be done with the promo stuff for Catching Fire.”

 

“That’s right!  How many more premiers do you have?”

 

He looks off in the distance as a camera flashes from a passerby.  He squints his eyes and tugs my ball cap lower over his eyes.  “I leave late tomorrow for France.  We’ll do a few press things and then we come back to the states for the New York premier.”

 

I tallied in my head that he’d be gone for a week, possibly more.  “Are you doing any late night shows?”

 

He swallows his beer and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.  “I’m actually going to do Conan when I get back from New York.  That’s the only one I know of for sure.”  Then he shoots me a cocky grin, “Why?  Will you watch me?”

 

I grin easily and bite the corner of my lip.  Then I turn thoughtful and ask, “Do you ever watch yourself?” 

 

He looks taken aback by that question and then shrugs.  “Sometimes.  It’s harder to watch interviews.  Those are really me talking, not someone feeding me lines from a script.”

 

I had watched a few of his interviews after meeting him months ago.  He was a natural in front of the camera, and he came across as self-confident and real without being overly cocky.  It was a dangerous combination.  Josh watches me intently for a moment before shaking his head.  I smile slowly and ask, “What was that look for?”

 

He rolls his eyes, “It’s going to sound corny.”

 

I sit back in my seat and finish off my beer before licking my lips.  “Try me.”

 

“Okay, fine.  I was just thinking how amazing it is that we met at that concert and you never called, and now here we are.”

 

My eyes dart away from his and I clear my throat.  I’m opening my mouth to tell him I didn’t exactly lose his number when his cell jingles in his pocket.  He excuses himself before checking it by saying, “I’m waiting on an important text, do you mind if I check it?”

 

I’m stunned that he’s even bothered to ask me as if he honestly cares what I think.  I wave my hand towards his cell in his hand, “Not at all.”

 

He checks the message and I watch in fascination as his neck burns bright pink.  He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably and tucks his phone back in his pocket then tosses back the rest of his beer.  I’m just about to ask him if he’s okay when our food arrives.  I wait for the waitress, who is avoiding eye contact at all costs, to set down our plates and then take our drink order.  Josh switches to water and I order a Palmer’s.  The woman checks the other patio tables before heading back inside.  When we’re finally alone I turn to him and lower my voice, “Okay, I’m dying to know what that was all about.”

 

Josh messes with his silverware and then pauses before he rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.  Finally he sighs and leans towards me, “I’m really sorry.  I didn’t think anything of it.  I’m going to guess Adam knows you’re here?”  When I nod my answer he continues, “That was my mom.  Apparently my aunt is being bombarded with questions about who you are.  Someone took our picture and it’s been posted on a bunch of sites and now everyone is trying to figure out who the mystery woman is.”

 

I stare at him in horror for a moment and then I toss my head back, one hand on the top of the Reds cap so it doesn’t fall off, and laugh richly.  When I turn back to him my smile is wide and his lips are twitching in amusement.  Then I freeze for a minute before clapping my hands, “Ooh, please tell me you can pull them up on your phone.”

 

Josh cocks his head at me, questioningly.  “You aren’t mad?”

 

It’s my turn to stare at him.  “Why would I be mad?”

 

“Your privacy is being invaded.  You’re going to have fangirls storming your place with pitchforks.  Adam is going to see them and kick my ass up and down Ventura.  None of that bothers you?”

 

I hold my hand out for his phone, “Nah.  I mean, the last one might.  Your ass is pretty spectacular and I’d hate to see anything happen to it, but the rest of it doesn’t faze me.”  He unlocks his phone, showing me the screensaver of a gorgeous blue pit, before he hops online.  He finds the website for TMZ and we huddle close together as the pictures load under the headline, “What else is Catching Fire for Josh Hutcherson?”  I laugh excitedly as our faces become clear on the touchscreen.  In the candid his arm is around me and I’m partially blocked by the waitress but in that moment you can see half of my face.  I’m smiling ear to ear while Josh is looking down at me and hugging me to his side.  “Oh my god!”  I look up, smiling and realize how close our faces are.  Josh’s smile softens and his eyes measure mine.   

 

I’m the first one to look away, back down at the picture.  “This is crazy.  Does this happen to everyone you hang out with in public?”

 

Josh has leaned back a little, giving us both space.  “I don’t pay a lot of attention to it.  I’m not a big online person with social sites.  My aunt is on one of them and she fields a lot of questions about me.”

 

I think about being that close to someone.  “And you’re okay with that?”

 

Josh tucks his phone back into his pocket and nods, “Yeah, totally.  I trust her.”

 

I smile and pull my plate closer, ready to dig into my lucky burger.  “It must be really cool to be that close to your family.”

 

Josh takes a big bite of his diablo burger and nods again, “Yeah.  My whole family is pretty tight.”  He wipes his face with the corner of the napkin and gestures with his burger.  “What about yours?”

 

I chewed thoroughly and then took a sip of my Arnold Palmer’s.  “I’m an only child.  My parents live in upstate New York,” I take a fry and nibble on it, thinking.  “I wouldn’t call us your typical family.”

 

Josh swallows a bite of burger, “Are they still hippies?”

 

I laugh and enjoy the conversation as well as the night that’s settling around us.  “No, actually.  My dad is a lawyer at a big deal law firm.  My mom is a therapist.” 

 

Josh looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.  I grin and dig my shoulder into his, “They’re happy.  That’s all that matters.”

 

Josh agrees with this sentiment and we fall into easy chatter throughout dinner.

 

It’s near closing when our table is cleared and the check is brought out and set down in front of me for my signature. Josh immediately takes the slip of paper and stares down at it in confusion.  He realizes that we’re on the patio and due to restaurant policy I’ve given them my credit card ahead of time.  He looks back up at me, scandalized.  “You’re not paying for this.”

 

My eyebrows raise at his tone of voice.  “Josh, it’s no big deal.” 

 

He just shakes his head and excuses himself from the table.  I watch him head into the restaurant and lean back in my chair.  Just minutes later he’s back and smiling.  My eyes roll involuntarily at the smug look on his face.  “I took care of it.”

 

I get up before he can reach for my chair and his eyes narrow ever so slightly.  I laugh because he’s trying so hard to be a gentleman and I’m messing it up.  He stops beside me and I put my hand out, touching his arm much like I did earlier.

 

The rush I get that travels from my breasts south to settle as a throb between my thighs forces me to catch my breath.  I’m having trouble understanding why this is happening now when the other night at the premier I had simply been happy to see him.  Maybe it was because Adam hadn’t touched me since Sunday night in the shower.  Josh’s hand is on the small of my back as he leads me from the patio.  I point over to my car in the lot and he seems to be surprised.  “This is yours?”

 

I lean against the Audi and nod.  “Yeah.  Why?”

 

He’s shaking his head, looking me over from head to toe.  “I guess I expected a Prius or something more earth friendly.  Maybe a Huffy.”

 

I push him back a step with a hand to his chest.  “Excuse you.”  Then I laugh and look around the lot.  “Which one is yours?”

 

His hand waves to a Jeep in the corner.  My eyes widen and I laugh again, “How very earth friendly of you.”

 

Josh leans against the car beside me and our arms brush each other.  I can’t help the sigh that slips out.  Before he can say anything I confess to him, “I didn’t just lose your number, okay?”  His eyebrows are high under the brim of my ball cap he’s still wearing as he stares down at me, his lips parted in surprise.  I turn my body towards him and groan in frustration.  “You don’t understand.  That day we met?”  His nod encourages me to go on.  “I knew who you were, of course.  And it was such a great day.  And, I don’t know.”  I step away from the car and put both hands on top of my head, pacing, “I got home and your number was on my arm and all I could think was that I didn’t want to ruin that moment.”  I stop abruptly and turn to him.  “After I washed off the marker I regretted it.”  I take a step forward and drop my hands to my sides.  I’m standing right in front of him now and I put my hand over my mouth.  “And now-“

 

Josh straightens out of his slouch.  “Now what?”

 

I shake my head hard.  Josh reaches out and grabs the hand I have placed over my lips, hoping to keep the words I want to tell him in.  He lowers my hand and pulls me towards him until I’m standing between his parted legs.  He raises his hand with mine still in it and presses his lips to my knuckles.  I can’t help it when I sway towards him, my free hand comes up to press against the front of his white V-neck shirt.  I groan at the muscles that flex there and when his lips descend on mine I do absolutely nothing to stop him.  The moment his lips touch mine my stomach bottoms out and I open my mouth to catch a breath.  My eyes shut as his tongue licks into my mouth and glides against mine.  My fingers clench his shirt in a fist and I hold him in place as I slant my lips against his, finding a better angle.  Josh’s hand is still holding mine and I moan as it tightens its grip.  His free hand palms the back of my head and my body moves closer, fitting myself up against him like an interlocking puzzle piece.  The noise that rumbles from Josh’s throat into my mouth is what brings me back to reality.  I jump away from him and stare in wonder at the glazed look on his face.

 

“Oh, fuck.”  I’m fanning my face with both hands, trying to remind myself why I shouldn’t just push him back onto the hood of my car and climb on top of him.  Then I close my eyes and groan out a single name.  “Adam.”

 

I open my eyes as Josh adjusts himself and I look away so I’m not tempted to offer him my hand to use instead of his.  When I finally peek at him again, his head is dipped down and his hands are shoved deep in his pockets.  He purses his lips and then looks back up at me. 

 

“I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t wanted to do that since I saw you at the Levitt.”  I pressed my face into my hands as he speaks, “I am going to apologize because I know I’ve just put you in a horrible position and I am sorry.”

 

I take a deep breath and let it go on a drawn out groan.  “I’m sorry, Josh.  I like you a lot.”  I reach my hand forward as if I’m going to touch him but drop it at the last minute, deciding it wouldn’t be the best idea.  “But I love Adam.”  I watch his jaw clench tight and then relax.  “I’m really sorry.”

 

Josh swallows tightly and his mouth turns up in a half smile, “I understand.”  He seems to think about something and then says, “I’d really like to try this again-“ he waves a hand between us, “-this friendship thing.”  He looks over to the left and rolls his eyes before chuckling, “That is, if you’re even interested in one.”

 

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I weigh my options.  Finally I say, “I’ll let you know after I talk to Adam.”

 

He nods and says, “Of course.” And then opens my car door for me after I beep it unlocked.  Right before he shuts the door he says, “You have my number.”

 

I nod and shoot him a half-hearted smile before buckling up and starting the car.  As I drive out of the lot, I glance in my rearview and see he’s holding up his hand, saying goodbye.  Then I focus on the road ahead of me and what I have to go home to do.  Adam is going to be pissed.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Led Zeppelin - Stairway to Heaven

 

**Stormy**

 

Adam is sitting on the couch when I let myself in.  He's sitting on the edge of the cushion, his knees parted and his elbows rest on his thighs.  He's leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him, dangling in the empty space between him and the coffee table.  I shut the door behind me and turn, resting against it. 

 

He looks up at me and his face is a mask of emotion.  His cheeks are flushed with anger, his eyes are narrowed and his lips are flattened in a thin line.  His phone is on the glass top table in front of him and he glances away from me to stare down at it.

 

My teeth are digging into my lip and even though I'm standing here trying to figure out what to say, another part of me is remembering Josh's lips pressed to mine.  Josh's tongue stroking mine.  The taste of him in my mouth and the heat of his body pressed against me.  I rub my knuckles that his kiss still lingers on against the side of my jeans.  I clear my throat and move forward.  Before I can say anything Adam shakes his head, “If you apologize I'll walk out.”

 

I stop where I am and cross my arms in front of me.  My body is trembling and I don't know where to start.  It isn't until Adam speaks once again that I realize I've made an even bigger mistake, “And before you start telling me what the fuck is going on, will you take off his god damn hat! You look ridiculous!”

 

I've never heard Adam shout before and I whip the hat off my head and toss it into the corner near the coatrack.  I am about to start off with how sorry I am but he cuts me off once again, “Did you fuck him?”

 

I pull back as if I've been slapped.  “Wha-no!  No, I swear.”

 

“Then what did you do, because I've been getting these texts all night.”  He holds up his phone and then drops it back on the table where it clangs.  “I knew you were going out with him but I was under the impression it was to catch up.” 

 

“It was.  We just ate din-“

 

“If all you did was eat dinner, your face wouldn't be splashed all over TMZ and Perez Hilton.”  He stands up, straightening to his full height.  He takes a step forward and grabs my arm in his fist. “Did you let him touch you?  Did he kiss you?”

 

I'm stunned and I don't know how to answer that.  He gives my arm a hard yank and I gasp, “Yes.”  His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow, his gaze dropping to my lips.  He gives me a push and I stumble backwards.

 

He stomps past me and grabs his keys off the table by the door.  “I'll fucking kill him.”

 

I'm in between him and the door in a flash.  “Don't, Adam.”  I put my hands up to stop him and he stares down at me incredulously, “It will never happen again, I swear.  I'll erase his number, I'll pretend I never met him.”  My hands land on his biceps and he stares down at me, breathing heavily.  “Adam, don't, please.”

 

He swallows and shrugs my hands off his arms.  “You're never going to see him again.”

 

I nod quickly in agreement.  “Never.”

 

He takes a step back and looks down at the floor, “You know I could ruin your life.”  I freeze in place and then release a slow breath. 

 

“Are you blackmailing me?”

 

He laughs humorlessly and runs a hand through his perfect hair.  “It's not blackmail, sweetie.  It's a fucking fact.”

 

I look over his shoulder, biting my lip.  “What kind of dirt do you have, Adam?”

 

His laugh is hollow and he puts his hands on his hips after tossing his keys back onto the table.  “Pictures, video, all of it.”

 

My eyes narrow in confusion as they come back to rest on his.  “Wait, of what?  I have a prescription-“

 

“Not your fucking pot problem, Storm.  Jesus, no one would give a shit about that.  I'm talking us-full frontal, fucking, and how much you like to be tied up.”

 

I can feel the blood drain out of my face and I take a few steps backward as the floor tilts up toward me.  My career would be ruined, my whole life would be for nothing.  I could be sued by Scholastic and Lionsgate.  My back hits the door and my body shakes uncontrollably.  I try to lock my knees in place but they buckle under the weight of what I've just learned.  My mouth opens and closes and I can't seem to find any air.  I finally gasp as my ass hits the ground and my cheeks are wet with tears. I don't realize I'm crying.  I turn my face up to Adam, trying to find words but the only noise coming from me is a low, broken moan. 

 

My world is disintegrating around me.  I can feel my life crumble into ashes and blow away on a stiff breeze.  My eyes are blurry and I concentrate on sucking in oxygen.  The darkness that has started to creep into the corners of my vision bloom quickly when Adam reaches a hand down for me.  I try to scramble backwards but I am pressed against the door and I can't help but cry out as one hand reaches for my upper arm and brings me to my full height with one great pull.  I'm shaking in fear as he twists his other hand in my hair, holding my face close to his. 

 

I can feel the bruise forming on my arm as he squeezes tighter, muscle grinding against bone.  I let out a yelp and he takes advantage of my mouth being open to slip his tongue past my lips.

 

His hold on my arm loosens but the one in my hair tightens and I cry out again as I feel strands of hair pulling away from my scalp.  He brings me up against him and I can taste bile when I realize he's hard. 

 

He finally pulls back and says, “I own you, Storm.  You ever even think of leaving me and I'll ruin your fucking life.  All your hard work.”  The corner of his mouth quirks up in a satisfied smile, knowing he has the upper hand.  “I'm not going to have some little kid ruin everything I've worked so hard to build.”  He lets go of my hair and with unexpected gentleness he runs the back of his hand down my tear stained cheek.  “And Stormy, I promise you, if you ever see him again, I'll find a way to ruin him too.”

 

I swallow back my protest and nod slowly.

 

“Tell me you understand.”

 

I have to swallow convulsively and clear my throat after a few false starts.  My voice is raw when I whisper, “I-I understand.”

 

“Good.  Good girl.  Now give me your phone.” 

 

I gesture towards my purse.  When I left for the restaurant I grabbed my keys and my wallet-nothing more.  Occasionally I carried a purse, but for the most part I didn't like the added baggage.  I rarely had my phone on me when I went out because I didn't like feeling like I was wearing a leash.  I hated the idea of anybody being able to get ahold of me at any time they wanted.  It made me feel powerless to technology.

 

I watch in a mix of fascination and horror as Adam digs through my purse.  He unfolds every scrap of paper he comes across as if he's looking for some incriminating piece of evidence.  I can feel parts of me going into shock and shutting down.  My body is fine, a little shaken and bruised, but fine nonetheless.  My mental capacity seems to be on overload and I can feel my motor skills diminishing.  I want to rub my right hand against my left arm where it throbs but I can't make my hand move.  I want to press my palm against the sore spot on my head where my hair has been ripped from.  I'm afraid if I draw any attention to myself the pain he inflicts will escalate.

 

Adam finds my phone and holds it up to me.  “Tomorrow we're going to get you a new phone.  I'll put you on my plan.”  Then he slams the phone on the hardwood floor and crushes it with the heel of his Rockport.  My hands fly to my mouth to stifle any noise I might make, my teeth clamping down on the insides of my cheeks.  He turns his foot right and left and then raises it and slams it back down again.  My phone is now a mess of broken plastic and wires and he rears his foot back and swings it forward, connecting with the jumbled pieces and sending it flying across the living room where it slides under the couch. 

 

He's panting heavily and it amazes me when he starts to go through this sudden transformation.  He gets control of his breathing and calms himself down.  He runs his hands through his hair, putting every strand back in its rightful place.  Then he smooth's his palms down the front of his oxford shirt to his waist, magically erasing any wrinkle that might have marred his pristine appearance.  His shoulders are pushed back to form perfect posture and I dare to look up at his face where he's affixed a charming smile.

 

On the outside I am perfectly still, my hands still pressed one on top of the other over my lips. 

 

On the inside I am quaking in fear.  I want nothing more than to turn back the events of the night and tell Josh I couldn't meet him for dinner.  I want to go back in time to when Suzanne had invited me to the premier and tell her I can't make it.  Most of all, I want to go back to that concert in May and tell Josh that No, he can't hit the blunt I'd just lit.  Not for my sake.  But because he has so much more to lose than me.

 

Adam smiles and holds a hand out to me.  “Come here, sweetie.” 

 

I'm scared shitless and afraid to make him mad so I take a hesitant step forward.  He grunts out an expletive and grabs my arm where he did earlier eliciting a cry from me.  I automatically jerk back from the pain and it's replaced with a sharper sting as the back of his hand connects with my cheekbone.  My head whips to the side and this time when he grabs me by the arm I sob out a breath but I don't fight his hold.  His breath is suddenly sour as he leans close to my face and says, “Next time I say to come here, don't make me tell you twice.”

 

I nod quickly, my arm bearing a horrible weight.  Looking in his eyes I can see that he knows how much pressure he's using because he presses down a little more to see if I'll react.  When I stare up at him stoically he laughs heartily.  “Good girl.”  He lets go of me and points to the bedroom, “Now get undressed and get in bed.  I'm ready to fuck.”

 

I stare at him in horror for a moment and he physically turns me around and places his hand between my shoulder blades and gives me a hard push.  I stumble forward and the momentum carries me to the floor.  My bare knees connect with the floor through the rips in my jeans and the cracking noise pulls me out of my stupor. 

 

“Get in the fucking bedroom, Stormy!”

 

His bellow causes me to scramble up and forward to the bedroom.  My mind is racing but I can't form a proper thought and then he warns me, “I'm giving you a minute, 60 seconds, to be on that bed and naked with your legs spread for me before I get in there.”  I can hear him move to the fridge and I momentarily think about standing here defiantly.  I press my hand to my cheek where I can feel the swelling already start up and I shake my head. Tonight I will endure.  Tomorrow I will seek help.  I rip my shirt up and over my head and throw it on the floor.  I fumble with my shoelaces and then I'm pulling off my neon pink hi tops as well as my socks.  My fingers are shaking as I tear at the button and zipper on my jeans and then I'm shimmying out of them in jerky movements.  I can hear his footsteps and I fall onto the bed, kicking my legs to fling my jeans across the room.  My bra is off in record time as I pull it off over my head instead of trying to unclasp it and my panties are sailing through the air as he comes to stand in the doorway.  I'm breathing heavily and I fall onto my back, sinking into the comforter. 

 

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

 

I spread my legs immediately and close my eyes against the tears that blur my vision.  I listen through the blood rushing in my ears as he undresses.  I can hear the beer bottle clink against my nightstand as he sets it aside.  Then he's on top of me and pressing himself into me and I cringe and bite my tongue to keep from crying.  His hand wraps around my throat, making me gasp for air, and the urgent way he thrusts into me makes me want to crawl out of my own skin and never come back out.

 

I don't fight him.  I don't say no. 

 

At some point while he kisses me and shoves his tongue into my mouth I imagine Josh above me. 

 

Josh would be gentle.  He would take pleasure from giving pleasure. 

 

He would never rape me.

 

Adam twists my nipple with one hand and roughly teases my clit with the other.  “I'm going to stay inside you until you cum, bitch.”

 

I scream inside at that, knowing I'm nowhere close.  I'm not wet and the only lube aiding in this instance is his own precum.  I close my eyes tighter and bring up a picture of Josh's face as I left him.  His lips parted after our kiss and the way he looked at me, as if I were someone to worship.  His green eyes with the inner ring of reddish-brown that made him even more appealing.  The way his jaw felt under my fingers when it flexed. 

 

I felt a flood of liquid warmth and Adam slows down.  I don't realize that I'm moving against him, meeting his every thrust with one of my own.  I can only see Josh.  Only feel Josh.  And it's his hands that are softening on my nipple and against my clit.  It's his mouth against my neck, licking at a sensitive spot.  It's his cock hard inside me bringing me to new heights.

 

I cum so hard I see stars.

 

And then Adam is roaring his release over me as his hips piston against my inner thighs. 

 

He collapses on top of me, uncaring of my sobs.  When he rolls away from me I grab the corner of the comforter and pull it over my body.  My hands shake as well as the rest of me and I watch as he walks naked into the bathroom.  He comes back out and grabs his beer and his boxers.  He studies me for a moment before taking a swig from the longneck.  His smile is one of pure satisfaction and he looks me over from head to toe in disgust before turning towards the living room.  “I'm going to crash on the couch tonight.”  He glances at me briefly and his brows lower threateningly.  “And don't try anything stupid, you got me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

It seems to be the simplest answer and I don't want to try forming a whole sentence. 

 

I curl into a ball and weep softly.  I don't fall asleep, not even after I hear his breathing even out.  Instead, I turn my head and stare out at the night sky and the lack of stars.  I feel just as vast and empty and dark as the sky. 

 

**Josh**

 

I return home to find Andre at the kitchen counter.  He looks up at me with a half grin as I shut the door behind me.  “What?”

 

“I'm dying to hear how it turned out.  Amanda has been texting me all night and I've been watching these pictures pop up all over the internet.”

 

“Wait.”  I stop mid stride, “Pictures as in more than one?”

 

Andre laughs and nods, “Oh yeah.  At least a dozen.”

 

I drop my keys in the dish beside the door and glance over to where Driver sleeps on the couch.  I walk into the kitchen to stare down in shock at the iPad in front of Andre.  He's on the Perez Hilton website and there are rows and rows of pictures of us together.  I shake my head in disbelief.  “Where do these people hide?”   I scroll with my finger until I come to the last set.  We're standing at her car and her hands are on top of my hat on her head.  It takes me a moment but I reach up and pull my cap off.  I realize she took mine home with her and I groan.  I hope she remembered to take it off before she went to talk to Adam.  Of course, if he's seen the pictures it's not going to matter.

 

Then I realize she has my hat and I smile slowly.  It's the perfect reason to get in touch with her.

 

I call my mom back and reassure her that I'm not involved with anyone, unfortunately.  I call Amanda and reassure her that she can tell my fans that the mystery woman is just a friend, if she wants to bother with the questions at all.  I think about calling Stormy to make sure everything is all right but if she really loves Adam and wants to be with him I have to respect those boundaries.  It might kill me but I'm willing to step back and just be friends.  I've only just found her and I can't imagine losing her again so soon.

 

I go in my bedroom and finish packing for my trip tomorrow.  We'll arrive in Paris Friday mid-morning and I plan on doing a little sight-seeing before the premier Friday night.  Saturday my schedule is tight with a press junket.  We fly back to the states on Sunday and then we have the New York premier as well as two mall tours back to back. 

 

I love my job and I love my life, but sometimes I wished I had a moment all to myself to just relax. 

 

I zip up my duffel bag and carry it out to the front door, setting it down in the hallway.  I go back to my bedroom and collapse on the bed.  The stress of the past two days, as well as dinner tonight, has finally caught up to me and I'm exhausted.  I stretch my arms to the sides and then bring them back, stacking my hands under my head like a pillow.  I stare up at the skylight above my bed and the lack of stars in the sky.  I miss Kentucky night skies and being able to see the Milky Way while lying in the hammock out back.

 

I fall asleep thinking how nice it would be to share that hammock with Stormy.

 

Thursday night I reluctantly board the plane to Paris for our direct flight that will take approximately 11 hours.  I haven't heard from Stormy and by now I'm pretty sure I'm not going to.  My stomach twists and flips but I give her the space her and Adam probably need.  I know if Stormy were my girlfriend and another man kissed her I'd fucking kill him.  I raise my hand at the airport as I walk along beside Jen and people take our picture.  She keeps looking at me funny.  I know she wants to ask what's wrong but I don't want to talk about it right now so I put my headphones on and move forward with the rest of the boarding passengers.  In first class I take a seat to myself and put my backpack down next to me.  I'm not in the mood for conversation.  I sleep most of the flight.

 

On Friday we land at the Charles De Gaulle Airport around nine in the morning France time.  I'm jetlagged but I refuse to pass up the chance to visit the Louvre.  I stop by our hotel long enough to drop off my bag and take a quick shower.  I get dressed in jeans and a plain tee and pull on a thick fleece hoodie along with a pair of sunglasses and Stormy's hat that I hadn't been able to leave at home.

 

After taking a leisurely tour of the museum, I arrive back at the hotel with enough time to take another shower and put on my designer suit for the red carpet. 

 

I didn't watch the movie this time.  I didn't go to the after party either.  Instead I went back to the hotel and stripped down to my boxers and undershirt and ordered room service.  I started to text Stormy a half dozen times and each time I talked myself out of it.  Patience, Josh.

 

Saturday I did back to back interviews with a translator that repeated everything twice.  By the end of the day my head felt like it was going to split in two.  Surprisingly, I was actually asked about the pretty blond wearing my infamous Reds cap.  I simply shrugged and replied, “Just an old friend, that's all.”

 

Sunday we board the plane to head back to the states, this time for the east coast, and I buckle down for a 9 hour flight.  I'm restless and have a hard time finding my rhythm so when Suzanne sits down beside me I actually welcome the intrusion.  She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes.  She's become a sort of second mom to me and I find her hand with mine and I give her a reassuring squeeze as we take off. 

 

It isn't the flying that has put that look of worry on her face, though.  She seems to want to say something to me but doesn't know where or how to start so I laugh and lean back in my seat.  “Just say it, already.”

 

She bites the corner of her lower lip and nods, “I saw the pictures of you and Stormy from last week.”

 

I narrow my eyes at her and wait, not sure where she's going with this.  I'm almost sure she's going to reprimand me and I don't especially want to hear a lecture but then she shoots me a panicked look.  “Her number has been disconnected.”

 

“What?”  I imagine there are only a few reasons her number would no longer be in service.  Suddenly, I can't stop thinking about the what-ifs.  What if Stormy had decided her life would be easier if she changed her number instead of just telling me she didn't want to be friends.  I shake my head infinitesimally.  That doesn't sound like her at all. 

 

What if she just lost her phone and got a new one, cancelling the old number.  I shake my head again, lost in thought.  Nah, that didn't quite fit either.  She had too many important contacts to not transfer her number.

 

What if, and this was the one scenario that made my gut clench and my chest tighten, Adam saw the pictures of us and jumped to conclusions.  What if he had made her get rid of her old number.

 

That was more believable than the first two but still hard for me to swallow.  Stormy was a pretty independent person and I couldn't honestly imagine her letting anyone tell her how to live her life.  Then again, maybe I didn't know her as well as I thought I did.

 

“I'm sure she's fine.  We'll try to track her down once we land.” 

 

Suzanne is nodding in agreement.  She gets up to move back to her seat but I stop her with a hand on her arm.  “You can stay here if you want.”

 

She smiles and looks thankful and we fall into easy chatter.  We both doze off at some point and when we land my stomach is clenched tight.  I call information and ask for Stormy's number, not surprised to find it unlisted.  She's going to be famous fairly soon with her book release before the end of the year.  I'm running out of options unless I want to send Andre on a reconnaissance mission and that sounds pretty far out there, even to me. 

 

Suzanne's phone chimes with a text message while we're standing around baggage claim and she checks the screen.  “Oh.”  She lifts her face to me and smiles across the few feet that separate us.  “That's Stormy sending me her new number.  She said collectors were blowing up her other number so she requested a new one.”  She reaches out her hand and pats my arm.  “I'm sorry if I worried you.”

 

I tell her it's no problem and watch her respond to Stormy. 

 

I'm not surprised when my phone doesn't ring.  I'm not surprised but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Stormy**

 

My days run together as I sit inside my apartment.  I don’t dare leave in case I run into someone I know.  By Monday my eye is still somewhat swollen shut and my cheek has faded from purple to a ghastly shade of army and lime green.  My face is tender to the touch and it looks bad but it doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as my arm.  There’s a bruise in the shape of Adam’s long fingers in a band around my bicep and I can’t lift the sore muscle more than a few inches before the pain becomes unbearable.  I’m afraid something is damaged but I can’t risk going to the doctor’s and being questioned about it.

 

It will have to wait until the bruising has gone down significantly.

 

I’ve given my new number to the people Adam has approved.  My agent, my parents and a handful of friends he's deemed important.  He doesn't check my texting history, instead telling me he trusts me.  I'm not sure I believe in trust anymore.  And I am not naive enough to believe he isn't reading them in some other way.  He would never leave me that much freedom.

 

I have learned many things about myself in the last few days.  I know for a fact that I do not love Adam and it is hard for me to correlate the monster I know now with the man that was so gentle and loving before.  I am also aware that I will not thrive in this situation and that is why he is keeping me like this, afraid and locked away.  He hasn't touched me since Wednesday night and I believe he is aware that I will never let it happen again.  I will kill him first.

 

I have thought long and hard about the consequences, should I leave one day and disappear.  I am currently under two contracts and my disappearance would be cause for suspicion among legal actions being brought against me.  If I were to leave and not disappear and Adam released a video of us in flagrante delicto, I would be breaking my contract for explicit behavior and as an author of young adult books that would ruin my career.  I'm almost willing to risk it. 

 

I would rather spend my days living under an overpass or sleeping in homeless shelters and on park benches with not a penny to my name if it would mean getting away from Adam. 

 

Josh is what is stopping me. 

 

Adam is very wealthy and he has a lot of power behind his name.  He is involved in a conglomerate of businesses on the west coast as well as overseas and I do not doubt him for a moment when he says he can ruin Josh's life. 

 

Josh may be a movie star and he has a very strong family standing behind him as well as a rabid fan base that would no doubt support him no matter what, however, I have witnessed a celebrity's career fail from much less.  I am not willing to be the reason Josh's life is torn apart.

 

On Tuesday Adam goes out for drinks and a round of golf to discuss a business proposal with a few of his partners.  He has demanded I break my lease and move in with him.  According to him, my apartment is not appropriate enough for someone with my bank account.  I have lived in 40-41 for half of a decade and it makes my heart hurt more than it already does to imagine packing everything up and moving.  On top of this, my book is set to be released in one week and I am already a household name.

 

As soon as my book was bought by Lionsgate to be made into a franchise, the internet had exploded and the preorder of copies had skyrocketed.  I had booked two signings back to back at the very B&N I had met Suzanne at.  I felt as if my life was coming full circle and I had once foolishly thought that at this time in my life I would be celebrating.  Instead, I am cowering at the thought of attending a public venue where everyone's attention is focused on me.  I am afraid this mass of strangers I'm inviting into my life through this imaginary world will somehow know. 

 

My phone chimes, alerting me of a message, and I just stare over at it.  I know it's Adam checking in on me.  I have a rebellious moment where I imagine putting the phone in the toilet and flushing it a few times to make sure it's water logged but I know there will be a punishment and so I reach for my cell and respond. 

 

"How is your day?" He wants to know.  He asks me every day.  Sometimes he asks me to my face and I have to be careful how I answer it.  It's much easier to lie in a text.

 

"Productive. :)"

 

"Have you been working on the next book?"  He seems much more interested lately in the series.  As far as I know he never even read the copy I gave him prior to me sending it out to publishing houses.

 

"Brainstorming mostly.  How is your day?"  I always ask in return.  I don't give a shit how his day is going.  I wouldn't care if he was mugged in a dark alley and his throat was slit ear to ear.  I just want the attention back on him so we aren't talking about me.

 

"Fantastic. I'll see you when I get home.  Pack a bag."

 

I don't ask him why.  I know it's phase one of moving me out.  My hands are shaking and my nose is running and my cheeks are wet with tears as I slide my phone back onto the coffee table beside the couch.  My stomach twists and I can't help but think if I leave here with him it will be tantamount

to getting into a car with your abductor.  No one will ever see or hear from me again.

 

I lean my head against the cushion on the back of the couch and curl my arms around me, trying to hold as much heat in as possible.  It's useless for the most part and I finally fall into sleep, shivering from chilly

fingers drawing down my back.  I don't sleep when Adam is home.  During the day I tend to seek refuge in the darkness that is my subconscious and I am able to get a few hours of rest. 

 

Wednesday night we are eating dinner at his condo when my phone rings from my purse.  I let it go to voicemail because it's rude to answer your cell during meals.  Correction, it's rude for me to answer my phone during meals, Adam does it all the time.  As I'm putting the dishes in the sink Adam asks me what's wrong with my arm, studying the way I favor it.  I shrug, "It's just a little sore."

 

He narrows his eyes at me, a glass of red wine on the table in front of him.  "Show me."

 

My feet falter and I finish putting the dishes in the sink before I return to him and pull the wide neck of my sweater down far enough for him to see the marbled flesh.  His finger marks have faded to barely visible and I still can't raise my arm more than I could days before making my left arm nearly worthless.  Thankfully I was right handed. 

 

He holds my forearm gently and makes concerned noises in the back of his throat.  When he leans forward I have to force myself to remain absolutely still and not pull back from him.  His lips are soft and warm as he places barely there kisses against the bruising.  He places his cheek against my arm and exhales softly.  "That looks painful.  Maybe you should get it checked out."

 

My face is nearly healed, just a small bruise at the top of my cheekbone that is barely noticeable and easily covered with makeup, so I noncommittally say, "Maybe."

 

He leans back and smiles up at me, letting go of my arm.  "Why don't you go check to see who called?"

 

I nod and head over to my purse, checking the number from the missed call menu before listening to the voicemail.  It's Suzanne.  My fingers shake just the tiniest bit as I sink into the plush high back chair near the entryway where my purse is hung.  "Hey, Stormy.  We just made it back to L.A. this morning and I  wanted to make sure you were still up for going to the midnight showing tomorrow.  Give me a call back so I know either way, alright?  Love you!"

 

I replay it because I haven't heard a non-hostile familiar voice in nearly a week and then I erase it before sliding my phone back into my purse. 

 

Adam looks up from the TV show he's watching and pats the space on the couch beside him for me to sit down.  I ease myself down slowly, readying myself for an argument when he asks me who called.  "It was Suzanne.  We had made plans to go to the midnight showing of Catching Fire a few weeks ago.  She just wanted to check to see if I was still game."

 

Adam doesn't turn his head to look at me, just continues staring straight ahead.  His lips are pursed and my breath is caught in my throat waiting for him to respond.  "Do you think that's a good idea?  First the food bank and now this?"

 

Since the year I moved to California I have spent Thanksgiving at soup kitchens, helping however I can. I go back to visit my parents during Christmas and one trip home is enough.  This is something Adam doesn't understand so I skate over it.

 

I pretend to think about the answer when inside I am screaming, "YES!"  I clear my throat and stare ahead with my eyebrows lowered as if in deep thought, "I think it would be more suspicious if I cancelled on her."

 

Adam shrugs and nods.  "Okay.  If that's what you want to do."  I can feel he wants to say more so I am carefully watching the TV in front of me, avoiding glancing in his direction.  "As long as he's not going to be there."

 

I don't ask who.  I don't dare play dumb.  It has been exactly a week since Josh and I went to dinner.  A week since the night my world collapsed in on itself.  I answer with, "Of course.  If he shows up I'll leave immediately."

 

Adam seems satisfied with that answer and then says, "You can call her back tomorrow.  Tonight I'd like to spend a quiet night in with you."  His hand lands on my knee and he rubs soft circles.  "I like Suzanne.  You could be her in five years, you know?"

 

I just nod along, not listening as he talks about my future, comparing it to Stephenie Meyers and Suzanne's.  That night we lay beside each other in bed and he stays on his own side.  He falls asleep quickly and it amazes me that he has such little faith in the idea that I will do something to him in his sleep.  He must believe me completely weak.

 

He’s wrong, but tonight I let it pass.  I lay awake, just as I have for the past week, and focus instead on the strange shadows dancing around his bedroom.  I miss my apartment.  My eyes follow a light on the wall from a passing car’s headlight and I roll over to face the window with the shades drawn.  He’s taken away the right to stare out at the starless sky when that is how I get through these tedious nights one after the other.  My only saving grace is that tomorrow he will leave me alone while I spend the day at the shelter handing out dinner. 

 

And later I will get to see my friend.  I know I have more friends than Suzanne but since I began dating Adam a lot of them have stopped calling and coming around.  Maybe they saw something I couldn’t even back then.  I wonder if I would have looked closer had they said something.  I’d like to think I would have but I can’t be sure.  I wish someone had loved me enough to warn me.

 

Thursday passes with a lot of laughter and good cheer as I move about the soup kitchen.  I dish out stew and slices of turkey and buttered bread to those in need and I feel lighter than I have in weeks.  I can feel myself returning from the dark abyss to which I’ve retreated and I give out hugs freely, my left arm carefully tucked to my side.  I feel important and part of a cause while I’m there and when it’s time to clean up and leave, I can feel the weight I’ve shed start to creep back on.

 

I go home to my apartment to shower and possibly get some rest before the midnight showing.  After a couple hours of deep sleep I am revived and I dress in my District 12 shirt, a flannel thrown on over it and rolled up at the sleeves.  My jeans have rips in the knees from rough wear more than from being fashionable and I pull on my black hi-tops.  I grab my wallet and my cell and shove both into my jeans pockets. 

 

I don’t realize my cell phone is dead.

 

**Josh**

 

New York is cold and wet and I make it through the premier as well as two mall tours in as little as 3 days. I end up at home early Wednesday and get to the Warner Bros. lot with little time to spare for the Conan show.

 

I'm in the green room being prepped to go on when my phone rings. Andre glances at the readout and says, "It's Suzy."  He answers it with a drawn out hello.  He listens for a minute and then he says, "Let me ask him."  He places his hand over the phone and gives me a look, "Still going to the midnight showing with us?"

 

I squint and shake my head.  I'm less interested in sitting through the movie in a packed theater yet again and more looking forward to having the house all to myself for the night.  "Nah,  gonna have to pass. But tell her I said thanks."  Andre relays the message as the stylist for The Conan Show tries to get me to change my sweater for the last time.  Someone else peeks their head in to give us the 5 minute warning.  Andre is chatting excitedly with Suzanne when I turn to him.

 

"Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

 

Andre looks me up and down and gives me a deadpanned stare. "When isn't there something wrong with what you're wearing? Did you get that sweater at Baby Gap?"

 

I roll my eyes and strip off the sweater replacing it with a button down shirt over my white V-neck and rolling the sleeves up to my elbows.  I get the thumbs up from Andre at the wardrobe change and I look pointedly at the phone he has pressed to his ear.

 

Andre says goodbye and hangs up, slipping my phone into his pocket.  My attitude since Andre picked me up at the airport this morning has only declined.  I don't want to do this and I don't want to be here and the lady from wardrobe backs away at the glare I give her when she attempts to straighten my collar.  Andre asks if we can have our last minute alone.

 

As soon as she's out the door he turns on me. "Okay what the fuck is going on. Speak fast and get it all out before you walk out there and your sense of humor resembles that of one of those sad clown paintings."

 

I take a breath, knowing I can trust Andre and then I say, "She's driving me crazy. Okay?" I pace to the set of mirrors and back again. "It's been a week and I haven't heard from her. She changed her number and told Suzanne it was because creditors were calling for the wrong person."  I run my fingers through my perfectly groomed hair causing Andre to cringe and move forward.  I throw up my hands to stop him, "And all of that is perfectly fine. I wouldn't care...much. Except everyone keeps asking me who she is. First mom and Amanda. Then they asked over in Paris. On the red carpet in NY.  A fan at a mall tour told me she shipped us. And now-"

 

Andre studies me carefully. "So what you're trying to say is you're in love.”

 

I groan as the door opens and I'm being told we have 30 seconds.  I follow along with Andre right behind me and say, "I'm not in love."

 

I'm standing on my marker waiting for the introduction when Andre says, "Be charming.  She's probably watching you right now."

 

I shoot him a panicked look and hear my name.  I level one last glare in his direction before I fix a smile on my face and enter through the curtain to where Conan and Andy are waiting for me.

 

I shake hands and hug and then I take my seat.  I look at the camera and laugh at something Conan says. I'm charming as hell.

 

It doesn’t come up until I'm halfway through a riveting story about something that happened behind the scenes on the set of Catching Fire when Jen had accidentally given me my second concussion.  Conan makes a smooth transition by saying, "Speaking of lovely ladies, I hear you are off the market." A picture of Stormy and I flash on the monitor and I smile in response.   The only way he would be allowed to ask me about her is if he cleared it through the proper channels and I'm already planning how to destroy whoever gave him the go-ahead to ask.

 

"She's just a good friend, Conan."

 

"Is that what you tell all the girls?"

 

We both have a good laugh and move on.  He asks me if it's hard for me to find a date.

 

I tell him finding a date isn’t hard. Making sure they're legal is another story.

 

We show a clip of Catching Fire and then he takes it to commercial.

 

He's shaking my hand and says, "How is Stormy by the way?"

 

I'm stunned for a split second, staring at him open mouthed, "How-how do you even know her?"

 

He smiles while the makeup lady comes over to fix his face.  "We met at a book release party a few months ago. She and the misses really hit it off. When I saw the pictures I was glad her and that jerk had broken up.  She's a sweet girl. You two look cute together."  He takes his seat and I'm led off the stage set.

 

Andre is staring at me with raised eyebrows. "Did Conan just say he knew Stormy?"

 

I nod dumbly.  "Yeah. He did."

 

Andre wrinkles his nose as we make our way back to the dressing room to trade my borrowed shirt for my sweater.  "This town is way too small."

 

Amen to that.

 

Thursday passes uneventfully.  It’s Thanksgiving but I’m in L.A. for a charity event that takes place tomorrow instead of in Kentucky where I would prefer to be.  A few friends come over and we order Chinese instead of attempting a turkey.  Sadly, this isn’t my first time celebrating a holiday with take-out and it likely won’t be my last.

 

I’m saying good bye to the last guest after a long day of football and general laziness when Andre disappears to his bedroom.  I take Driver out one last time for the night and as I’m coming in Andre is on his phone, walking to the front door.  He’s probably talking to Suzanne because he’s telling the person on the other end that he’s on his way when he turns to me.  “Don’t wait up!”

 

I raise my hand in acknowledgment and move towards my bedroom.  Sleeping in my own bed never gets old and when I lay down I think it would be nice if I could stay right here for the next month.  My episode of Conan airs tonight and while I don’t usually watch my own interviews I’d really like to see my reaction to being asked about Stormy.  I think I pulled it off pretty well.  I scoot back until I’m propped up by the pillows and I wait for the show to start. 

 

A half an hour later I am impressed with my own acting abilities and I turn off the TV.  My eyes have just fallen shut and Driver is snoring on the other side of the bed when my phone goes off with multiple texts.

 

My hand gropes around my nightstand until I find it and pull it to me.  I rub my eyes as I unlock the touchscreen and I groan as message after message pops up all with Andre’s name stamped above them.  It takes me a moment to comprehend what I’m seeing but I struggle to an upright position and read all 3 texts over more carefully.

 

“Stormy is here.”

“I bet you wish you’d come now.”

“She just hugged me!”

 

I text him back swiftly, “Are you trying to torture me?”

 

The winky emoticon he sends me only serves in pissing me off.  “Jerk,” I mumble under my breath and turn my ringer to mute.  I’m not going to let him keep me up all night with little updates like I know he will.

 

I drift off to sleep with thoughts of Stormy and how much I wish I could have told Conan she was mine, on the air and in front of everyone.

 

**Andre**

 

Suzanne has invited a literal gang of people to watch the movie at the Vista down on Sunset.  Even though she attended the premier I know she also likes to watch movies and get the honest reactions of real fans.  I’ve just been introduced around the group when an attractive blond comes trotting down the sidewalk.  She grins when she sees Suzy and apologizes for being late.

 

“How was the shelter?” Suzy asks the woman with a lowered voice.  The woman turns her head and I see her profile, immediately recognizing her.  I move closer as the duo put their heads down to talk.  Suzy laughs at something she says and then Stormy is glancing over at me.  She looks back ahead and then does a double take. 

 

Her eyes narrow and she turns her body towards me.  “Andre?”  Her tone of voice is laced with suspicion.

 

“Stormy, right?”

 

She laughs and claps her hands in delight.  When she moves forward to hug me I notice she only uses her right arm and keeps her left tucked close to her side.  She pulls back and laughs once more.  “Holy hell.  I remember you from the Santana concert!”

 

I think back to that day and vaguely remember Josh getting high with Stormy. I don’t recall being totally sober myself and I had mostly just let myself enjoy the scenery and the music, letting them do their own thing.  “That was me!”  Suzy smiles at us and goes to talk to a few other people.  I let on that I was somewhat eavesdropping a moment ago by saying, “So what shelter were you at?”

 

Stormy raises her brows but answers, “Santa Monica.  I went to help pass out food.”

 

“Do you do a lot with charities?”  Suzanne has told me a lot about Stormy over the last few months and I know her life is about to change drastically when her book is finally released this month.  She’ll gain instant celebrity status and everyone will be on her, trying to lure her over to their organization.

 

She shrugs and moves forward, smiling up at me as we start to file into the single screen theater.  “I try to help out whenever I can.”  Suzanne glances back at us and adds, “Stormy’s book signing is next week and the proceeds of whatever she sells there are going to go to a charity.  You should hook her up with SBNN.”

 

Stormy slows down a little at the concession line to grab popcorn and I lose her in the crowd of people jostling for snacks.  Finally she elbows her way out of the madness and makes a straight line for me.  She offers me popcorn and hands me one of two bottles of water. 

 

“You didn’t have to, really.”  She just smiles and nudges me playfully. 

 

“So tell me about SBNN.  Isn’t that the one that works with GSA’s?”

 

I smile as we move into the theater and find seats off to the side, away from our group, filling her in on a few details of the organization.  When I’m done she seems impressed and says she’d love to help out.  She asks if it’s okay to do a little research on her own before she makes a commitment and I let her know that I understand completely.  I’m reminded by some ad to turn off my cell and I decide to let myself be a total asshole for a split second and blow up Josh’s phone. 

 

I bet he wishes he’d come out tonight.

 

It isn’t until halfway through the movie that my elbow moves off the armrest between us and I jostle Stormy’s left arm.  She makes a pained sound in the back of her throat and I whisper an apology.  When she doesn’t reply I glance over at her and am shocked to see her lips pressed together in a thin line, tears welling up in her eyes, and her bottom lip quivering. 

 

“Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  I’m pretty sure I barely even bumped her so when she waves away my concern I glance back at the screen.  I don’t miss the way she sets her popcorn on the ground in front of her and doesn’t touch it for the rest of the movie.  I don’t miss the way she shifts her arm just a little closer to her side, protectively tucking it inside her side of the armrest, and I don’t miss the way she evens out her breathing as if she’s in pain and trying to get it under control.

 

I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m going to find out.

 

After the movie she pretends nothing is wrong even though I can tell her arm is hurting by the way she favors it.  When we make it through the throng of people we stop by the sarcophagus in the Egyptian themed entryway to wait for our group.  I turn to Stormy abruptly and say, “I’m really sorry if I hurt your arm.”

 

She gives me this half smile but I can see the pain still lingers around the tightening of her eyes. 

 

“It’s fine.  I strained the muscle a few days ago so it’s still kind of sore.  It’s nothing you did.”  She pats my arm and I smile down at her.  She’s a horrible liar.

 

“Hey, if you aren’t busy tomorrow SBNN is sponsoring a basketball event.”  She looks undecided for a moment so I add, “Hey, no pressure.  Just an invite to come out and see what we’re all about.  It’s in the Hollywood High gym.”  I look over to where Suzanne is being asked for autographs by a small group of people who recognized her.  “Suzy will be there.”

 

Stormy studies the older woman for a moment before sighing and looking up at me.  A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth and she says, “Okay, fine.”  She pulls out her phone and asks, “What time?”

 

“It’s at noon.” 

 

She nods and tries to turn on her cell phone.  She shakes it as if that is going to make it work and then frowns down at it.  She rolls her eyes and holds it up to show me.  “Stupid thing.  It’s horrible at holding a charge and I just got it.  I hate technology.”

 

I take it from her to hold down the power button as I comment, “Josh said you got a new number but he didn’t mention you got a new phone.”  When the screen remains blank I go to hand it back to her and say, “Yep, it’s dead, alright.”

 

She’s staring up at me, eyes wide, face drained of color. 

 

“Stormy?”  She shakes her head once and gently takes the phone from me, looking everywhere but up as she tucks the phone in her pocket.  It takes a moment before she can speak and I can see her throat working as she blinks rapidly. 

 

“Suzanne told Josh, right?”

 

At her whispered words and the dejected way she stands there so uncomfortable, I can’t help but pull her into a hug.  Stormy leans against me, her head tucked against my arm.  I pat her back and say, “It’s okay.  Josh is a big boy and he’ll get over it.”  Then she pulls back and wipes her cheeks with shaking hands.

 

“I’m so sorry, I’m just an emotional wreck right now.”  I nod as if I understand and then she smiles through the tears and shakes her head, “Ugh.  I’m such a mess.”  I give her a half hug and laugh. 

 

“Honey, if you are what a mess looks like, I would never choose to be clean again.”

 

Her laughter is rich as she leans into me.  “I really like you, Andre.”

 

I smile down at her as we wait for Suzanne.  I really like her, too.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Stormy**

 

Adam isn’t waiting up for me when I get home.  His condo is dark and the bedroom door is shut.  I let out a relieved breath and turn towards the kitchen where I plug in my phone.  I stare out the window beside the sink and try to flex my arm.  It’s gone slightly numb and while it doesn’t feel broken there’s something really wrong with it.

 

I think about the joint I have rolled and stashed in the zipper compartment of my makeup bag in the bathroom.  As much as I would appreciate the high right now, I know Adam would flip if I smoked in his place.  I’d go to the roof but I don’t know his neighbors well enough to not have the cops called on me.

 

I pop two Aleve and stretch out on the couch, kicking off my shoes.  I roll to my right side to alleviate the weight on my arm and I doze off as I listen to the gentle hum of the refrigerator.

 

I wake up to Adam studying me from his spot on the corner of the coffee table.  I blink awake and sit straight up, slightly horrified that I fell asleep anywhere around him

 

He watches me intensely but remains silent so I am the first to say, “Good Morning.”

 

He holds up his mug of coffee in salute.  “Morning.”  His eyes travel all over me from my sleep tousled hair to my Hunger Games shirt down to my ripped jeans and rainbow striped toe socks.  “Forget to charge your phone?”

 

I nod slowly, unsure of how I should answer and what he might expect to hear from me.  “I didn’t realize until after the movie last night but I came straight home and plugged it in.”

 

“Mmm.”  His noncommittal noise made me sit the rest of the way up.  “And this outfit.  This isn’t what you left in yesterday.”

 

I shook my head, “No.  I went back to my place and showered and changed before going out.”

 

The way he sips his coffee, watchful and thoughtful, makes me cringe.  It reminds me of the calm before the storm.

 

“I think we should use this weekend to move the rest of your stuff out.”

 

Some small part of me can’t help but rebel and before I can stop myself I hear my voice say, “I don’t think I’m ready for that step in our relationship.”

 

Adam pretends to not hear me and for a moment I wonder if I even said it out loud.  “Your furniture will have to be donated of course.  Our styles don’t match at all.

 

I shift on the uncomfortable couch and silently agree.  My couch is a red microfiber with overstuffed cushions that you sink into as soon as you sit down.  Adam’s is black leather that squeaks in protest at the tiniest movement.

 

“Why don’t you go change and we’ll head over there?”

 

I automatically move to get up and then I remember Andre’s invitation from the night before.

 

“There’s this basketball game at noon today for charity that I’d like to go to.”

 

Adam gets up from the table, finishes his coffee and moves to the kitchen.  “Is it the Lakers or something?”

 

I shake my head and realize Andre never actually went into detail.  “I don’t think so.  It’s at Hollywood High in the gymnasium.”

 Adam glances over at me in disbelief.  “What kind of charity is it?”

 

“SBNN.  They help set up GSA’s in high schools across the country.”

 

“And that’s what you’re considering contributing to with your book signing?”

 

His incredulous tone raises my hackles.  “They’re people too, Adam.  It’s an important issue and a good cause.”

 

He sneers and fires back with, “Being gay isn’t a disease.  You’ve never heard of anyone calling out of work because they’re queer.  Support cancer or something.”

 

I stare at him for a long moment, unsure of where the hostility is coming from because I’ve never heard him speak ill of this issue, before I get up to go to the bathroom.  I shore up my nerve and turn to look at him and strengthen my voice then say, “I’m going to that game, with or without you.  We can pack tomorrow.”  His eyes narrow at my insistence but he doesn’t speak or make any movement towards me, so I close the door.  I turn and press my back to it and let out a choked breath.  My whole body is shaking at what I’ve just done and I feel like he should be able to hear my heartbeat from the living room.

 

I stay there, propped up against the door for what feels like an obscene amount of time, trying to regulate my breathing.

 

I finally shower, reminding myself how hard it is to wash your hair using just one hand and then I wrap myself in a robe and enter the bedroom.  There’s a note on my pillow that simply says:

 

“Emergency meeting.  Have fun at the game” –A

 

I sigh and collapse on the bed.  It’s a little before 9 and I can actually catch up on some much needed sleep.

 

The alarm is set for 11 and I curl into my robe on top of the freshly made bed.  I am asleep before my eyes shut all the way.  I wake up with the alarm and it doesn’t take long for me to step into another pair of jeans and a faded olive Henley.  I pull my hair back and study myself in the mirror.  My cheek no longer shows the bruise so I decide to forgo the makeup today.  I grab my jacket and keys on my way out, sticking my wallet in the pocket of my coat.

 

I park my Audi in the school parking lot and follow a group of young girls into the gym through a set of double doors at the side of the school.  I spot Andre talking to a group of guys all dressed in white jerseys’ with red numbers on their backs and black mesh shirts.  I raise my hand in greeting at him and Suzanne calls out to me from her spot halfway up the bleachers to my left.

 

I move to join her and she introduces me to the small group she’s sitting with.  There are a total of a dozen people scattered among the stands.  “Glad you could make it.”  She hugs me with one arm and I return the embrace.

 

“So what is this all about?” I gesture around us,  “It looks kind of dead in here. And Andre was pretty vague when he mentioned it last night.”

 

“It’s two teams of celebrities that play against each other.  Tickets are 25 dollars a head.  It sells out every time, raising a couple thousand dollars.  Concessions are provided by local businesses.”  I nod along and look down at the two teams just as he looks up at me.

 

Our eyes lock and I am helpless to look away.  I haven’t seen him since dinner over a week ago and I can’t imagine how I’ve gone this long without seeing him.  My breath stutters in my lungs and my heart skips multiple beats.  His eyes widen in recognition and then narrow in what could be determination.  Andre says something to him and he shakes his head swiftly, his eyes never leaving mine.  There’s a warmth that settles behind my sternum and he takes two steps towards me before his name is called out. 

 

An attractive brunette walks across the court and presses herself in close for a hug.  It doesn’t linger long and then she moves on to Andre.  My eyes barely track her progress as she runs up the bleachers to sit beside another girl in front of us.  Josh nods at something Andre says and twirls the ball on the tip of his index finger, returning his gaze to me. 

 

The brunette that hugged him must have followed his line of sight because she tips her head sideways to look behind her and she laughs.  “Well, fuck.”  I break eye contact and glance down at her.  “You’re Stormy!”

 

I look over at Suzanne and then back to the girl in front of us.  She has on a light green shirt with the initials SBNN on the front of it.  “I am.”  I’m also aware that I can’t be here if Josh is.  I don’t know what Adam will do if he finds out.  I turn to Suzanne and force a smile.  “I’m going to head out.”

 

“But the game hasn’t even started.”  She watches me as I stand and make my way past her and the brunette who is watching me closely.  “Stormy!”

 

I raise my hand to wave back at her without turning around and without looking toward the court I make my way down the wooden bleachers and zero in on the exit.  I’m almost home free when a hand wraps around my arm and I scream out in pain as fire races down to my hand and a sensation much like pins and needles shoots up to my shoulder and across my back towards my spine.  Josh snatches his hand back like he’s stuck it into the flames and holds both hands up, taking a step back from me. 

 

I bite down on my lip as hard as possible to hold in the strangled sounds trying to rumble up from the pit of my stomach.  I cradle my left arm with my right and turn around to glare at my offender.

 

“Shit-Stormy, I’m so sorry.  I just wanted to come ask you to stay.”

 

I can’t speak for fear of sobbing like a baby so I just shake my head and dash off for my car.  I settle in the driver’s seat and finally am able to lean my head against the steering wheel, letting the pain crawl up from my throat with a few heart wrenching sobs.  My eyes are squeezed shut tight and I release a high pitched moan so I don’t hear when the passenger side door opens and Andre slides into the seat beside me.

 

His arm wraps around my shoulders and I look up at him, shock evident on my face but quickly turning to a silent plea.  He just shakes his head and gently pulls me toward him.  My face crumples and I willingly launch myself into his warm embrace.  He shushes me and strokes my hair like a child and when I finally am able to form whole thoughts I pull back and take his cheeks in my palms and I kiss him on the lips.  A world of thanks forced into such a small gesture.

 

Andre smiles at me and puts his forehead to mine.  “Tell me, Stormy.”  I shake my head quickly and he just nods.  “You’ll feel better.”

 

“I can’t.” 

 

He seems to take a deep breath and lean back from me.  “I have to be totally honest with you, sweetie.  I have quite the experience in dealing with people who are being abused.  Emotionally and physically.”

 

I stare at him imploringly, half afraid of what he’s going to say but wishing he would just say it all the same.

 

Finally he brushes a few strands of hair back from my face and then lets his hand fall softly to my shoulder.  I flinch reflexively and start to move my arm away from him when he slides his palm down to my bicep.  I cringe at the pain and shake my head, “It’s fine.  I just strained it.”

 

Andre stares at me for a very long minute, measuring my eyes before he nods once.  “Okay.  When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

 

I nod and turn away from him, licking my dry lips, to stare out the windshield.  I take a deep breath and then say, “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it.”

 

Andre releases a breath of possible disappointment but then he takes my hand with his and holds it for a moment, tenderly.  “And I’ll be here if that ever changes.”

 

I study his eyes, taken in for a second by how caring they are even though he’s practically a stranger.  I whisper out, “Thank you, Andre.” And a genuine smile tilts my lips up at the corners. 

 

Andre exhales loudly and lets go of my hand with a final squeeze.  “Ok, now that that’s out of the way, what do I have to do to convince you to come back in there and watch the game with me?”  He glances down at his watch and nods towards the propped open doors, “They’re about five minutes in and I should probably get back.”

 

I swallow past the sudden lump that forms in my throat and study the garish orange doors.  I don’t want to put Josh in any danger but my rebellious moment earlier must have given me a little boost because I suddenly didn’t give a shit what Adam thought.  And this was Josh.  What could he possibly do to hurt Josh?  Finally, after a few minutes of internal arguing with myself I glanced over at Andre and rolled my eyes in acquiescence.

 

“Okay.  I’m in.”

 

Andre smiles, flashing his teeth, and gets out of my car.  He puts his arm around me and leads me back to the gymnasium.  We skirt the edge of the court and I am amazed at how packed the bleachers are.  Andre escorts me to the row of seats directly behind the team’s benches in what amounts to a VIP section.  Suzanne is on the end and the brunette is right beside her.  Andre sits down first and leaves me to sit to his left.  He nudges my shoulder with his and I realize he’s sat me here so my arm is left with space.  I blink back the sudden well of tears and lean my shoulder into his, comfortably settling in as I watch the white team take the ball down to the other end. 

 

Josh is waving his arms madly down near the hoop and when the ball comes his way he shoots and misses but his team mate grabs it out of the air and sinks it in.

 

They high five and nod at each other, smiling.  He glances at the clock and his eyes dart down and over as if he’s just noticing me.  He stares at me for a second and then focuses his attention back on the game. 

 

I’m riveted watching him run along and block people and steal the ball and I’m amused as hell when he does this little victory shuffle when he shoots from the 3 point line and makes it.  I don’t hear the whispering off to my side until a girl asks, “Excuse me, miss?”

 

I raise my eyebrows and look over at a girl no older than 10.  Her braces have little blue bands on them and she smiles so widely it looks like her face is going to crack.  She’s fairly bouncing in place, excited and holding out a bookmark to me.  I take the bookmark and study it for a moment before placing a hand over my mouth and laughing.  It’s the silhouette of the cover of “Selling Out”.  She hands me a sharpie and asks me to sign it and I’m stunned into automatically scrawling my signature across the glossy surface, the shiny black ribbon tied at the top of it tickles my hand. 

 

“I knew it was you.  You look just like the picture in the book store.  I’m coming to see you a week from today.  Will you sign my book for me?  Do you think you’ll remember me?  My mom says you’re dating Josh Hutcherson.  Are you really?  Is he just like Peeta?  I love Hunger Games and I’m reading Mockingjay right now-“

 

“Catherine!” 

My eyes are wide and my mouth is open as I try to form a reply to the couple hundred things that have flowed out of the little girls mouth, trying to keep up with her barrage of questions.  I smile up at the older woman who steps forward and smiles apologetically.  “I’m so sorry.  She gets a little carried away.”

 

I shake my head, “Oh, no problem.”  I look at the little girl and pat the open seat beside me.  “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll try to answer all your questions.”  I glance at her mom and admit, “She’s the first person to ask me for my autograph.”  I look back down at the little girl as she settles her wiggling body onto the bench beside me.  “As far as I know, you’re my first fan.  Maybe even my only one.”

 

She gasps and then smiles, showing me a mouthful of metal.

 

Josh comes over just then, sweating and smiling as he takes his seat in front of us.  The little girl gasps and then whispers loudly to me, “Are you two really dating?”

 

I exaggerate a sigh and reply to her in the same tone of voice, “Unfortunately, we’re just friends.  Josh thinks I’m too pretty to date.”

 

The girl giggles and Josh laughs, still facing forward.

 

“Is he really like Peeta?”

 

“Hmm,” I pretend to think about this, tapping my chin with my finger, “I think Josh and Peeta have a lot of the same values.  But,” I lean down to her and whisper quietly, making sure Josh can’t overhear, “I think Josh is better.”

 

She smiles up at me as if I’ve just shared a great secret and Josh looks back at us and studies me before dropping his eyes to the little girl beside me, “Did she just say something about me?”  The little girl just stares at him and pretends to turn a lock on her little bowed lips, tossing the imaginary key over her shoulder. 

 

I laugh and hug her to my side, “Us girls have to stick together, Josh.”  Then I really look at the way he’s watching me and I can feel my cheeks start to burn. 

 

“Girls rule.”

 

Josh shakes his head as the little girl pipes up and I say along with her, “And boys drool.”  We fist bump and settle into talking about other girl things, dropping the subject of Josh and boys in general. 

 

The game flies by and Josh’s team loses by 5 points.  Him and his other mates, some of them I’ve seen in movies before and others I don’t recognize at all, are surrounded by fans and I stay on the bench between Andre and Catherine, listening to them talk about the game and where they like to shop.  Marie, Cat’s mom, signals that it’s time to go and I give the little girl a tight hug and tell her I look forward to seeing her at the signing.  They both wave and say goodbye and my eyes flit from them to where Josh is standing with a group of girls, getting his picture taken. 

 

I rest my elbow on my knee and my chin on my fist as I watch the interactions.  He’s so carefree and personable to everyone who approaches him, no matter who they are or what they look like.  Andre breaks into my concentration and invites me out to lunch.  I automatically reach for my phone and groan as I realize it’s plugged in on the counter.  I consider driving back to Adam’s place at the Towers and decide against it.  Village Pizzeria is just around the corner on Yucca and it’s still fairly early in the day, a little before 2pm. 

 

I agree to go and we linger a little longer, watching the crowd disperse.  The teams head to the locker rooms and Andre waves Josh over as he’s on his way to the shower.  “I’m going to catch a ride with Stormy, meet us up at Village.”

 

Josh lowers his voice and answers then shoots me a tight, almost painful smile before following after his team mates, pulling his jersey over his head on the way. 

 

The colorful tattoo between his shoulder blades flashes at me and then he disappears through the doorway.  Andre grins at me as if he’s read my mind to which I just laugh and roll my eyes.  He offers me his arm and I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and we head out to the car.

 

The pizza parlor was packed.  There were endless rows of red tables being slid together and extra barstools were brought out for counter service.  I slid into a corner beside a poster of Bob Marley and Andre pulled a chair up next to me.  Suzanne and Heather, the brunette, sat at a table adjacent to ours and would lean over to add to the conversation occasionally.  Not long after pizzas were set out in the middle of the tables did Josh and a handful of other guys arrive.

 

Andre, sneaky bastard he is, got up to get us refills and Josh seamlessly slid into the abandoned seat.  I stared at him for a long time before I was able to get any words out.  And when I finally opened my mouth to talk all I could think to say was, “Hi.”

 

Josh turned his body towards me, blocking out anyone at the far end of the table and smiled, disarming me.  He had a great smile.  “Hey.”  He reached a hand out and softly stroked the back of my hand with two fingers before tapping against it.  “I’m glad you stayed.”

 

I watched Andre come back  to the table and pass my drink to me before he pulled up a seat on the other side of Josh.  I narrowed my eyes as I realized I’d been set up.  “What did you whisper to Andre?”

 

“What did you tell that little girl about me?”

 

I bit my lip and looked him over before moving my hand out from beneath his.  How bad did I want to know what he had said.  I glanced over his shoulder at Andre who had the decency to grimace and look away quickly.  I wanted to know pretty badly.  “If you must know she asked me if you were like Peeta.”

 

He nods quickly, “Yeah,  I heard that part.  You said we have a lot of the same morals.”  He bats a sugar packet back and forth between his hands, looking down at the tabletop.  “What did you say after that?”

 

My tongue darts out to wet my lips nervously and I lower my voice to say, “I told her that I thought Josh was better than Peeta.”

 

His eyes are shoot up, searching mine, shifting left to right, before he leans in the tiniest bit and says, “Is that what you really think?”

 

His breath fans across my lips and I’m mesmerized by the golden flecks dotted throughout his irises and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.  The noise around us fades until all I can see is him and then a flash goes off and Josh turns with the sugar packet in his hand and pelts it at Heather.  “Cut it out.”

 

Heather sticks out her tongue playfully and starts to type into her phone.  I realize that she could be sending that picture to anyone and then Adam intrudes and I’m up out of my seat in a flash.  “No, please!”

 

My arm is stretched across the table towards her.  The look of panic on my face registers and she stares at me wide eyed for a moment before she turns her phone towards me.  “It’s okay, Stormy.  I’m just texting my mom.” 

 

The shuddering breath I inhale wracks my body and I fall back into my seat, wordless.  Only a few people are watching me and it’s Andre, who is wisest to it all, who presses his lips together tightly.  Suzanne is staring at me as if I’ve grown a second head and Josh’s eyes are shifting back and forth between Heather and myself curiously.  Heather shows me the picture and then deletes the intimate moment we’ve just shared before saying, “Not like one more matters.  After Conan last night I can’t believe you aren’t getting stalked by the paparazzi.”

 

I tilt my head to the side, trying to process this bit of information.  Josh brings his hand up to rub at his forehead for a brief pause before he says, “About that.”

 

I turn to look at him, horrified of what he’s about to tell me.  “What happened on Conan?”

 

“He showed a picture of us from dinner last week and I told him you were just a friend.”

 

“But-why?”

 

“Because my idiot publicist thought it would be a good move.  I haven’t been linked to anyone in a while and they thought generating some interest in my love life would get fans more invested in checking out Catching Fire.”

 

 

**Later:**

 

The bedroom is dark and I walk tslowly to my side of the bed.  I strip off my jeans and flannel and slide between the sheets.

 

I’ve just pulled the blanket more comfortably around my neck when Adam speaks.

 

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

 

I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the accusation in his eyes. 

 

“I’m sorry.  I accidentally left it charging.”

 

Adam shoves back the comforter and swings his legs oer the side of the bed.  “Where is it?”

 

I blink into the darkness, “Uh, I think it’s still on the kitchen counter.”

 

He’s out of the bedroom in a flash.  I hear his heavy footstes as he stomps across the floor then he marches back into the bedroom.and I raise my hand a second too late to block the offending object.

 

The corner of the phone smacks into my eyebrow, ,splitting the skin on impact.

 

I raise my hand and scramble off the bed, ignoring the phone where it lay innocently in the blankets.  I know head wounds bleed a lot but I’m still surprised as my palm I hold cupped near my eye fills with a a small puddle.

 

I stumble towards the adjoining bathroom and when Adam steps in front of me I slap my left hand, the hand that’s keeping the blood from running into my eye agsint the front of his chest, smearing a gruesome handprint across his white tshirt.

 

Adam grabs my arms to stop me from charging past him and as soon as his hand wrapps around my left bicep and squeezes to halt me I feel something tear and I scream, long and loud as my vision wavers and I finally succumb to the darkness that rushes in at me.

 

 

 

_Sources:_

<http://www.essexapartmenthomes.com/apartment/bunker-hill-towers-los-angeles-ca-90t2h2370515>

<http://www.villagepizzeria.net/>

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Song: The Band – The Weight

**Josh**

 

I ignore Andre on the way home.  He has a smug grin on his face that makes me desperately want to do something to knock it off but I let him gloat a little while longer.  In a strange way he has kind of earned it.  When we get to the house, I take Driver into the backyard to play fetch while Andre heads off to make a few phone calls about SBNN.  I know he’s brimming with excitement at the idea of Stormy partnering with the organization and I have to admit it was pretty ingenious on his part. 

 

After a few tosses of the ball and a couple rounds of Frisbee, I lead Driver back into the house to grab some water for both of us when I hear Andre say, “Just a sec, I need to grab the other line.”

 

I watch him mess with his phone before he puts it back to his ear.  “Andre speaking.”  He looks over at me and shrugs, “Um, sure.  This is him.”  Andre is tapping the lead of a #2 pencil on a yellow legal pad in a staccato rhythm that suddenly falls silent as he pushes back from the kitchen table.  “Wait, what?  Where is she?”  He’s moving around the room with no real destination and I can see the panic in his movements.  “Yes.  Sure.  I’ll be right there.”  He hangs up the phone and stares at me for a moment, his throat working but no words able to come out.  My water bottle hasn’t even been opened yet, I’ve been watching him carefully this whole time.

 

After a few false starts of him just opening and closing his mouth, I finally prompt him by saying, “Everything okay?”

 

He nods and then shakes his head and his phone rings, startling him into motion.  He answers it by saying, “Call you back later, it’s an emergency.”  All of a sudden he’s propelled into motion as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.  “That was the hospital.  Stormy’s been admitted.”

 

I stare at him in shock, sure I’ve heard him wrong and then he rushes for the door and I toss my water bottle into the sink.  I’m right behind him, locking doors and following him out to my car, beeping it open before we even make it there.  “What is it?  Car accident?”

 

We just left her not even an hour ago.  I can’t imagine anything happening to her in such a short time but Andre directs me towards CHW and I’m flying down the 101 to Harbor Freeway and hopping off on 9th to follow it to Grand.  Andre doesn’t know what’s going on, only that she’s in stable condition and her next of kin is unavailable.  Apparently since her phone was home, charging, she had written Andre’s cell number on a piece of paper and stuck it in her pocket.  When the nurses had gone through her wallet and clothes for identification they had found his name and number scrawled on a napkin.  They had immediately called him in hopes that he would be able to notify the proper people of her condition.

 

Andre is a rock as we charge through the front doors of the hospital.  The receptionist looks up and does a double take as recognition hits her.  Her mouth droops a little while Andre approaches her, “I need the room for Stormy Seasons.”

 

She bobs her head and taps her keyboard a few times finally pulling up the information.  “She’s on the 4th floor in 1477.”  We take off for the elevators and we’re both impatient, urging the car up to 4.  When it opens we are directly across from the nurse’s station but neither of us stop there.  We’re both stride for stride jogging down in the direction of her room.  I pull up short at the sight of a cop sitting in a chair outside of her door and I can feel the pressure of tears start to prick behind my eyes at how bad it must be.

 

Andre approaches the officer and they exchange words.  The cop was the same one to have called Andre and would like to ask him a few questions before he lets us enter.  Andre pulls a seat over to the cop and I stand against the opposite wall, arms crossed over my chest as my foot taps out a beat. 

 

Andre is asked a lot of questions neither of us know how to answer.  How long has the abuse been happening?  Had either of us witnessed it happening?  Could either of us provide a number to her next of kin?  Andre’s hand was shaking as he formed it into a fist and asked, “Was Adam arrested?”

 

The officer looked up from where he was making notations in his notebook.  “He was taken into custody.  It was pretty clear he had beaten her.”

 

I straightened at those exact words.  My vision had started to narrow and all I could see was the door next to Andre.  I marched forward and shouldered aside Andre, pushing past the cop and the door he guarded. 

 

The sight of Stormy laid out on the hospital bed froze me momentarily.  I felt a rubber band pulling taut and then snapping, uncoiling itself from a deeper place inside of me.  I moved forward tentatively, my eyes skating over her body.  Her left arm was in an aircast and her left eye was bandaged over, a spot of blood visible through the gauze.  

 

It took me a few steps to make it to the chair beside the bed that I collapsed into.  My whole body was quaking with an emotion I couldn’t quite name.  I reached out a hand and stroked my fingers along her hand, tubes snaking out of her arm and taped down at the inside of her wrist.  Her fingers twitched in response and I looked up at her face, my cheeks burning, my face hot with anger.  Her lashes fluttered and her lips parted on a sigh.  The cop stood next to Andre near the entrance and his radio crackled with static at an incoming message.  He excused himself and stepped out the door, standing guard while he relayed information to his partner.  The door stayed open and he continuously glanced in at us. 

 

Andre ran a hand over his hair and stared down at her.  “I knew.”

 

My eyes dart over to where he’s standing, hands falling to his hips.  “What are you talking about?”

 

I raise a hand to brush her hair away from her face when Andre reiterates, “I told her I was here if she needed to talk.  I knew something was happening.  I could tell.”

 

I feel an irrational burst of anger at him but I shake my head instead, relieving him of some of this weight he’s carrying around, “It’s okay, Andre.  She knew you were there and that’s what matters.”

 

Andre lowers himself into the chair by the window, far away from where she’s lying, and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.  “I should have done something.”

 

A nurse comes in then and falters when she sees us in the room.  She looks back out at the cop who gives her a nod and then continues on her path to the bank of machines on the wall next to Stormy’s head.  She glances over at me, an older woman with steel gray hair, and her voice is low and raspy as she says, “She’ll pull through.”  I glance up at her, tears evident in my eyes, and then drop them back down to study Stormy’s face.  The nurse pats me on the shoulder as she passes.

 

The cop in the hall talks in a low tone with the nurse but we can hear them clearly, “I’m going to put hospital security on her now that she has someone here.”

 

“Thanks, Jim.”  The nurse tucks her hands into the pockets of her scrubs.  “It could have been a lot worse.”

 

“It could have been prevented,” he looks in at the woman disappearing under the sheet and the young man that hasn’t stopped touching her since he was allowed within reaching distance.  He knows her boyfriend is the one that beat the shit out of her even after she was passed out on the ground.  The contusions across her chest and stomach, the bruising that has surfaced, made him want to do more than just slap a pair of cuffs on the sick son of a bitch.

 

As if the four stitches above her eye and the torn muscle in her arm weren’t enough.  So far there didn’t seem to be any internal bleeding which he was grateful for.  He had seen domestic abuse cases far worse than this one and he was thankful to the neighbors who had heard her scream and rushed to help.  He was even more thankful that he was in the area after just getting off his shift and had made it to the scene in less than a few minutes.  He didn’t want to even think about what could have happened had it taken him any longer.

 

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting vigil when the doctor enters the room.  He comes straight over and checks Stormy’s vital signs and then adjusts the drip of morphine, saying, “We need her to wake up for a little bit.”  He smiles over at me and glances to where my hand is covering hers at the edge of the bed, resting against the mattress.  “You must be Andre.”

 

I nod my head towards where Andre is staring off into space, probably lost in inner turmoil, beating himself up.  “I’m Josh.”

 

The doctor studies me for a minute, probably trying to place my face before saying, “Oh.” A look of understanding dawns on him and he says, “You’re the reason they’re here.”

 

I stare up at him in confusion.  “Who?”

 

He waves his hand as if to say it’s no big deal, “There are reporters lined up on the sidewalk for you.  There was some sort of rumor circulating that you were at the hospital and people have been calling for the last hour to find out if you’re okay.”  He moves the gauze from over her eye, pulling it back to check on the stitches.  The dark strands of thread bisecting her blonde eyebrow make me cringe in sympathy. 

 

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” 

 

The doctor just shakes his head.  “It’s no problem at all.  I’ll go ahead and make a statement that you’re here in a visiting capacity so it doesn’t get out of hand.” 

 

“I’d appreciate that.”  I watch the doctor as he takes her pulse while looking down at his watch.  “Would you be able to tell us what’s wrong with her.  I saw the stitches, but what about her arm?”

 

The man glances over at Andre who is watching us solemnly.  “Well, her proximal tendon ruptured in her bicep.”  He must have noticed the blank looks on both of our faces because he clarifies, “The bicep is attached to the shoulder by two tendons and at the elbow with one.”  He points to his own shoulder and taps a spot towards the back of his arm.  “The one she ruptured is this one.  She would have been fine without an aircast but apparently her rotator cuff was torn as well, so we’ve got her wrapped up in this to minimize the pressure put on her shoulder.  It will heal on its own, no major surgery.” 

 

My eyes are narrowed on the arm that I grabbed earlier today to stop her.  I remembered her reaction to my barely touching it.  “What could have caused her to tear the tendon like that, though?  I thought that was from lifting weights and stuff.”

 

The doctor looked from me to Andre and back to me again.  “From what I can tell the guy they arrested.”  At my nod he continues, “He had to have grabbed her with enough force and put a tremendous amount of pressure on her arm to have caused this kind of damage.  I’ll likely have to testify in court on her behalf.”  He shrugs and makes his way to the open door.  “In about an hour she’s going to be coming around and I’m going to have to ask you two to wait in the lounge or down in the cafeteria.  She has to be questioned if they want to keep the man that did this in custody.  They’ll need an official statement from her.”

 

We both nod and settle back in to wait.  I don’t plan on leaving her side until I’m absolutely forced to.

 

**Andre**

 

I have dealt with and helped people with many different forms of abuse.  Domestic, spousal, physical, mental, and I have had more than one friend take their life by their own hands because of the abuse becoming all encompassing.  When there is nowhere left to go, the easiest thing for some is to cease existing.  I had had some idea that Stormy was in an abusive relationship.  I hadn’t a clue how bad it was.

 

I was trying to compartmentalize the blame I was putting on myself and instead replacing it with the support I knew Josh was going to need as well as Stormy.  It was hard coming to terms with the fact that I could have been too late. 

 

I ignored my phone as it vibrated multiple times in my pocket.  I knew Josh’s publicist was probably trying to get ahold of him and I was usually the backup in case he couldn’t be reached. But right now neither of us was likely to be very personable, so I let it go to voice mail.  Again.

 

Josh had just leaned down and placed his forehead against the back of the hand he was holding when Stormy blinked her eye open. 

 

“Ouch.”

 

Josh jerked back and stared down at her and I came out of my chair to hover near her bed.  She studied the lights above her bed first and then her gaze fell to Josh at her right side.  Her whole body seemed to sigh in relief and then her lips slanted into a half-smile.  “I dreamt you were here.”

 

Josh choked back a sob and raised his free hand to trace her unharmed eyebrow with a fingertip.  His hand trailed to her temple and then down her cheek where he let it fall off the bed back to his side.  “I’m here.”  She smiled and twitched her fingers that were held captive by his.

 

“Good.”  She looked down the bed at me and her smile widened.  “Both of my knights are here?”  Stormy wiggles a foot in my direction and I place my hand against her ankle that’s still covered by the thin sheet.  “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

 

Josh’s laugh is watery and touching as he raises her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips lightly to the skin at her knuckles.  “You are the highest girl in the world right now.”

 

Stormy shifts her eye from me down to him and she rasps out a laugh.  “I’m floating above you.” 

 

Josh nods, grinning.  “You sure are.”  She groans in what sounds like pain and I lean forward to press the call button for the nurse.  A disembodied voice travels through the speaker on the bedrail and Stormy closes her eye softly.  She blinks a few times as I let the nurse know she’s awake and then she looks up at me, a tear rolling down the side of her face and says, “I think I need to talk to you now.”

 

The way she looks at me tears me apart and I sink down to sit on the corner of her bed, put my face in my hands, and weep for her.  She tries to touch me with her hand on her bandaged arm and she can’t quite reach me so she says, “Andre, don’t cry.  You’re perfect.” 

 

I laugh and look up at her, “What?” 

 

She shakes her head and grins through her tears, “I don’t know.”  She’s high as a kite and I can’t help but laugh as I put my hand in her outstretched one. 

 

The nurse comes in then to find us all grinning at each other and she smiles at Stormy as she moves around the bed.  “Are these your knights?”

 

Stormy nods and squeezes our hands before dropping them.  “They are.”

 

At Josh’s curious look, the nurse smiles as she takes Stormy’s pulse and says, “When she was first brought in she was floating in and out of consciousness and she looked at me and said it would be okay because her knights in shining armor were coming to rescue her.”  She checks her pupil with her penlight before nodding in satisfaction and then continuing by saying, “I asked her just exactly how many knights she had and she said, “Two, just two.”  She smiles up at the two officers that come into the room.  “If you boys would follow me, we’ll just let Ms. Seasons give her statement.” 

 

Josh leans down and kisses Stormy’s forehead tenderly and whispers to her, “We’ll be right back, okay?”

 

She nods and sighs, smiling up at him.  Then she looks over at me and says, “Well?”

 

I can’t help but smile back at her and come around to the side of her bed and kiss her in the exact same spot Josh did.  She seems to deflate at that point and sinks further into the hospital bed, her body releasing whatever leftover tension she had been holding onto.

 

We leave the room and walk down the hallway towards the waiting room to take a seat.  The evening is closing in and I mention to Josh that if he’d like to stay overnight I can go home to stay with Driver.  He puts his elbows on his knees and steeples his hands in front of him, lacing his fingers together.  I watch him swallow tightly and he’s opening his mouth to answer me, his face flushed and his eyes slightly glassy from holding his tears at bay, when someone yells his name.  Josh’s head turns toward the sound and a flash goes off.  The man doesn’t get very far when security grabs him and escorts the struggling man out of the waiting room and down the hall to the exit.

 

Josh rolls his eyes at the theatrics and the lengths the paparazzi will go to for an innocuous picture.  He pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up further and huffs out an aggravated breath.  “I would appreciate that.  And we can find out when they plan on releasing her.”

 

I meet his eyes and know what he’s saying before he even puts the thought to words.  “You want me to set up the guest room?”  The tree house has two bedrooms but there is a medium sized room at the end of the hall we’ve decorated as a bedroom for surprise overnight visits with a full size bed.  There’s a desk and chair in there, as well as a nice cherry oak dresser set I picked out when we first moved in.  Josh agrees and rubs his face with his hand. 

 

“I don’t know how long they’ll be able to keep him in custody.”

 

I press my lips together after Josh’s confession and I have to agree.  She won’t be safe at her own place.  As far as I can tell, she has no family here and her closest friend is Suzanne.  Josh told the nurse earlier that her parents both lived in New York and that he didn’t know how to get a hold of them.  I would venture to guess that her phone with that information is somewhere in Adam’s apartment. 

 

I let him know that I’ll leave after we’re allowed back in to see Stormy so I can properly tell her goodbye and we settle in for a wait.

 

**Stormy**

 

The officers were kind and understanding and showed compassion that I wasn’t ready for.  I had moved my bed up so I could recline comfortably instead of flat on my back.  I listened as they told me that with my statement, they should be able to keep Adam for another 48 hours.  The doctor stood in the corner of the room, adding to the conversation where he could.  I don’t remember a lot of what happened.  I do remember the phone being thrown at me and I can still feel where his hands grabbed my arms.  I vaguely recall crumpling to the ground and I swear there are phantom fingers wrapped around my throat as my stomach throbs where his fist pounded into me against the ground, keeping me trapped in place.  I raise my hand to touch my throat where it still seems to smart and one officer looks away, off to the other side of the room.

 

I smile shakily and let out a long breath.  I’m so tired and all I can think about is Josh and Andre waiting for me to be done.  I rush through it as fast as possible, anxious to see them again, to be reassured that they were indeed here and real.  I assure the cops that I am indeed going to press charges.  The doctor states that I’ll be released around noon tomorrow as long as everything looks good in the morning and I’m told the cops will escort me to Adam’s place to collect any belongings I might have there.  They ask me if I have a safe place to stay and I imagine any number of hotels I can move into for a short period of time while we wait for a hearing.

 

I’m tempted to hop the first plane to the east coast to hide out with my parents and let them nurse me back to health.  My book release is on Tuesday and my signing in a week from today and I’m not going to let Adam of all people run me out of town.

 

It’s a matter of pride for me at this point that I let it go this far.  I don’t even care about the sex tape anymore.  So what?  I am an adult and I have nothing to hide.  The thought of him doing something to hurt Josh still makes my stomach clench uncomfortably but Josh is a man in his own right and once I tell him he’ll be able to look out for himself.  I steel myself as the cops finish taking my statement and promise to be back tomorrow.  I am thankful for any assistance they can offer me and I watch in detached interest as they leave.  I can feel the morphine leaving my system and any movement from my shoulder to my neck causes a twinge.  I still can’t feel part of my left arm and it is somewhat surreal since I can feel the bottom half as well as control my hand.

 

The doctor left with the cops, making me promise to rest before he would agree to let me have my visitor’s back.

 

Andre and Josh came in just minutes later at the same time a nurse came by with a tray of inedible looking food.  Josh made a face at the piles of unidentifiable stuff just lumped inside the partitions on my plate. 

 

Andre sat with us for a little longer before he said goodbye, explaining to me that Driver could let himself out but that he didn’t like to be left alone overnight.  I kissed him goodbye and thanked him for coming and then waited for Josh to follow.

 

Andre left and Josh sat at my bedside, staring down at me.  My eyes darted over to the door and Josh replied to my unasked question with, “I’m staying.”  He held up a hand as I opened my mouth in protest, “And before you decide to argue with me, I may as well go ahead and tell you that Andre’s going to go home and fix up our spare room for you.”

 

“Oh, Josh-“

 

He puts a finger against my lips to quiet me and after a moment he seems to pull himself together enough to say, “I don’t want to hear it.”  I get a flash of pure anger in his eyes and his face that startles me before he relaxes back into himself.  I’m fascinated by what I’ve just witnessed and I am aware that none of the hostility he is pushing back is aimed at me.  It doesn’t scare me any less, though.  “For my peace of mind, please, stay with us.”

 

I can’t return back to my apartment to where Adam has a key.  The thought of staying in a hotel room might be okay but I’m sure in a few days I would be miserable.  I needed freedom and outside and more than just four walls to stare at.  I’ve never met Driver and I’ve never been to Josh’s house but I find myself nodding partly because he is so adamant and partly because I am exhausted and don’t feel like arguing. 

 

Josh, sensing victory, moves his finger from my lips to my forehead where he traces the bandage over my eye.  I watch him carefully as his eyes turn glossy and I’m afraid he’s going to let the tears fall.  I have never been able to sit idly by and watch a man cry.  It is something that gets me at my core and I reach out quickly and put my palm to the side of his face, cradling his cheek in my hand.  My thumb brushes against a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and he closes his eyes, testing the strength of my hand with the weight of him as he leans into the touch.  He shakes his head for a moment and then grabs my hand in both of his and ducks his head, holding the back of my hand to the top of his head. 

 

I can hear the hitch in his voice when he says, “I am so afraid of losing you.”  I can hear the pain, the turmoil, the feeling in his tone when he says, “I don’t know what happened or why you stayed, Stormy, but you can’t do that ever again.”  When he looks up, his eyes are piercing in their intensity as he repeats himself, “Never again, okay?”

 

I swallow down my pride and realize I’m going to have to tell him now what made me stay with Adam.  I’m going to have to tell him everything.  And hope he still feels the same afterwards. 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The Who – Love Reign O’er Me

Stormy

I woke up slowly to the soft sound of Josh’s voice. It took me a minute to get my bearings. Yes, I was really in the hospital. I had really been beaten unconscious yesterday. Josh had really shown up and stayed with me. 

I had really told him about Adam’s threats should I try to leave him.

My eyes shot open to look over to my right and I blinked as I surveyed the man at my bedside. He sat perfectly still, head bowed over my hand, his right hand holding mine, his thumb brushing back and forth across my knuckles. He murmured into the cell phone pressed tight against his ear and maneuvered my hand until my fingers interlaced with his, overlapping and entangled. I swallowed sharply at the rush that shot straight from the backs of my teeth down to the tips of my toes and Josh must have sensed the motion because his eyes darted up to mine and his lips tilted up at the ends in a sensuous smile as he wrapped up the call. 

“That sounds great. Thank you, Emma.”

I clear my throat as delicately as possible as he tucks his phone back into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Morning.” I wince at how sore my throat still is and make a face at Josh as he laughs and reaches over me for the cup of water with the straw. He speaks as he holds the straw to my lips, his right hand still grasping mine lightly.

“I have some news.” He takes the cup from me and places it back on the tray, sobering at whatever he has to tell me. He studies me seriously for a long pause before admitting, “I’m not sure how you’re going to take this because it didn’t seem to bother you before.” My eyes narrow as he goes on and I belatedly realize the gauze is off my left eye, even though it still feels heavy. “Someone put a picture of me in Star Magazine from when I was in the waiting room.” My eyebrows lift and I clear my throat again, Josh intercepting my question before I can ask it, “It mentions you by name.”

I groan and squint, not sure how I feel about it until Josh’s face flushes and he recites the picture’s caption word for word. “That’s probably not good.”

Josh shakes his head once and looks down at our hands as if just now realizing he’s still holding mine captive with his. “That’s probably an understatement.”

I squeeze his hand to get him to look back up at me and when he does I smile and say, “I don’t care.”

Josh’s smile is one of pure relief and he presses his lips to my hand and responds with, “Good. Because I don’t either.”

I husk out a laugh and pull my good hand from his, reaching up to delicately run my fingertips across my left eyebrow. I can feel the thick threads holding the cut closed and wince as I touch a particularly sensitive spot. “Ouch.”

I glimpse a narrowing of Josh’s eyes and the red flush that crawls up his neck to his cheeks, the precursor to the rage I saw yesterday, and I place my hand back down on the bed beside me and grin. “I guess I shouldn’t poke at it.”

He shakes his head, facial features softening and says with a small smile. “Probably a good idea.” 

He seems like he wants to say more but we’re interrupted when the doctor comes into the room, talking about discharging me into police custody. It all sounds pretty frightening to me and I’m glad Josh is there and taking charge as my head is still a little fuzzy.

I’m given instructions on how to care for my arm and to make a follow up appointment in a week with my regular physician to have the stitches removed before I’m given a prescription for weak pain killers for my various bumps and bruises. I don’t bother with the pain medicine and throw the script away in the hallway on our way out of the hospital, an officer leading the way and Josh walking beside me with an arm around my shoulders, his open palm gently placed against my left arm. We were both escorted into the backseat of the squad car parked near the exit and I didn’t realize how nervous I was until Josh placed a hand against my bouncing knee to still it.

“Ms. Seasons? I’m going to take you by Mr. Mallory’s residence first so you can get your stuff. After that we can go to your place. You have somewhere to stay?”

I nod at the officer, realizing he can’t see me in his rearview and then I open my mouth to answer him through the lump in my throat when Josh pats my knee softly and replies, “She’s going to stay with me.”

The cop nods and points his car in the direction of Bunker Hill Towers and I try to relax back into Josh’s side but I just can’t. My nerves are too wound up and I’m not sure what to do with my hands except repeatedly tuck the same strands of hair back behind my ear just to have them fall forward again. It’s a nervous habit and I jump when Josh leans in close and says beside my ear, “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

I don’t feel okay though and the closer we get to Adam’s apartment the quicker my breathing gets until I can feel my lungs seizing up. I’m about to ask the cop to pull over when Josh turns to look at me, startling me into turning my head towards him, my lips parted to speak up. At the shake of his head I take a deep breath and moan softly, the panic behind my eyes screaming for help. Josh just leans his forehead to mine and presses the end of his nose against the side of mine, breathing deeply in through his lips and letting it flow back out in a whispering caress. My eyes flutter close and I match my breathing to his, in through my parted lips and out at the same time he exhales, our releases perfectly matched and mingling together. I will my heart to slow down and before I’m completely aware the car comes to a sudden stop and the gear is put in park, jerking us slightly toward each other. 

I open my eyes, the panic receded and buried beneath a layer of affected calm that Josh has led me to. The cop is at my door and opening it before I can do more than whisper a thanks and then I’m being led into the building, the officer preceding me and Josh close at my back.

Once in the elevator I turn to him and say, “You don’t have to do this, Josh. You offering me a place to stay is more than enough.” 

He seems angry for a moment, sharing a look with the cop and then rolling his eyes before replying, “It’s nothing, Stormy.” His hand is on the small of my back as he lends me the support I’m in need of, despite my insistence, and the cop has the door open before I can emotionally detach myself from the scene in the living room.

I don’t know how the glass top of the coffee table got splintered or how the pictures from the wall near the bathroom ended up on the hardwood floor, smashed to slivers of dull glass. I look away and walk past the chaos into the bedroom where I stand at a loss. There’s nothing here I really want. My eyes wander around the room until I happen upon the shades that Adam kept shut every night because he knew it was my way of escaping. My steps are angry and unfaltering as I march past the bed and take a hold of the pleated material covering the window and I tear, ripping the shades off the brackets. I fling the fabric to the ground and stand back, staring out at the daylight and the peaks of the buildings across from the tenth floor.

I turn back and silently step out of the bedroom, passing Josh on the way out the door. “You okay?”

I nod jerkily before saying, “There’s nothing I want from there.”

Josh just stands close to my side as we wait for the elevator in silence, the officer giving us a semblance of privacy.

On the drive to my apartment I have steeled my resolve and am ready to go in there and pack my bag. Josh’s steps falter the tiniest bit when we enter my brightly painted living room, the ruby red color of the walls and the dark cherry wood floor nearly clashing with the turquoise lampshades and the deeper red of my couch. I worry for a moment that he hates how small it is but then I see him lean over, drawing his fingers across the dangling tassels on the Grateful Dead wall hanging and I notice the small smile that lifts his lips just at the corners before his hand falls away and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

I move towards the bedroom and step inside only to draw up short.

I haven’t told Josh about the night after dinner. I didn’t tell him that I was raped.

I remember it all with such precise clarity and for the first time it feels like it really happened to me and I can’t face the demons just yet. I turn back towards the doorway and Josh is studying the sheets intensely. When his eyes raise up to meet mine and the joint in his jaw clenches tight and releases only to clench up again I can only shake my head and close my eyes from the understanding I see in his gaze.

I know he knows and I can’t take the pity or the accusations I might see in his eyes so I only stand there, my head hanging in shame, fists clenched at my sides in unfairness while I squeeze the tears from between my eyelashes and my breath hiccups in my chest.

Josh wraps both arms around me and hitches me up to his side, turning out of the room and carrying me through the french doors and past the man in uniform and out the door of my apartment. The officer stands beside me where I lean curled into myself against the wall, at a loss for words and actions. Josh comes back out minutes later with two bags stuffed with my clothes emptied out of my dresser and my closet as well as a smaller bag that probably has everything from my bathroom shoved into it. Josh hands a bag to the uniform before gathering the other two in one fist and wrapping his free arm around my waist and leading me down the stairs to the waiting car. 

I finally open my eyes as Josh gives the officer directions to his house in the Hollywood Hills area, only to stare out the window in the opposite direction of Josh. My body has begun to numb itself and the stitches in my eyebrow have started to weigh down my eyelid making my vision blur. My throat hurts more than it did earlier but my hands form into tight fists on my lap as I ignore the need to reach up and touch the red marks left behind by Adam. Josh puts an arm around me, cocooning me in his warmth as he says into my hair by my temple, “You are stronger than this, Stormy. Don’t let him defeat you. Not now.”

I let myself go because he has spoken the words I so desperately need to hear and I turn my body towards him, gasping out a sob and bury my face in the side of his neck. Suddenly I can’t quite breathe as easily as I could earlier but it doesn’t seem to matter because Josh is there to breathe for me.

 

Josh

I hold Stormy as close to me as possible and am relieved when we pull up to the security gates in front of my house. I get out of the car and grab Stormy’s bags, trying to ignore the way she wipes her face clear of the tear tracks running rivulets down her cheeks.

She seems to pull herself together and stands back while I thank the officer, offering him a small wave as he pulls off and I buzz us in through the gate with the code. Stormy matches her pace to mine as we walk up the cobblestone path to the front door. I set down her bags and don't argue when she picks one up to carry. I can tell she is trying to be strong and I won't stand in her way of that. 

I let us in the door and show Stormy to the living room and kitchen, watching her as she runs a hand across the butcher-block island. I walk her down the hall, pointing out my room, the bathroom and Andre’s room. At the end of the wide hall I open the door and stand impressed at Andre’s transformation. Stormy drops the bag she's holding to slap a hand over her mouth

“Wow. Josh-“ She seems at a loss for words as she moves forward into the room. The canopy above the bed is made of jewel toned scarves, woven intricately across the intersecting poles. The comforter has gold thread sewn into the panels of deep reds and vibrant purples with tiny mirrors hidden in the pattern, reflecting the light from the lamp beside the bed. 

She turns to me laughing in surprise and raises her good arm around my neck to pull me close for a hug, releasing me just as quickly. “It’s amazing.” 

I place the bag I am holding at the foot of the bed and lead her out of the room. "You can thank Andre for that. I'm not even sure that's the same room as before."

Andre was in the backyard with Driver, waiting patiently for us, tossing a tennis ball for the energetic dog. I led Stormy to the sliding glass doors and before I could properly warn her she was outside and crouching in the dirt with Driver on her lap. His whole body wriggled as she hugged him close with her arm, her left tucked up in a sling.

Both Andre and I moved forward as Driver nudged her over onto her butt but Stormy just laughed and closed her eyes tight as the pit licked up one side of her face and down the other. Andre pulled Driver back while I hooked an arm around Stormy and hauled her up to her feet. Using the sleeve of her   
shirt she wiped her face dry and smiled up at me.

I looked from her to my dog, both of them grinning madly and rolled my eyes, letting go of Stormy so she could greet Driver properly. After shaking his paw with her hand she rubbed his ear and dropped a kiss between his eyebrows. “It’s nice to meet you, Driver.”

Driver barked in return, causing Stormy to giggle and kiss him again. Then she straightened and moved to Andre, hugging him close, “Thank you for the amazing room.” 

“Only the best for our house guest.” He answered as he hugged her close. He finally pulled back and shook his head, "Honey, I can't even begin to tell you how much fun we're going to have." Andre slung an arm over her shoulder and led her back into the house already planning sleepovers with facials and salt scrubs. Driver stayed close to the pair, following them into the living room where Andre plopped down beside Stormy on the couch and Driver laid his head against her knee while she rubbed the knot on the top of his head with her fingertips.

I studied them a moment longer before I went inside too and shut the door behind me. 

That night we cooked dinner together. I grilled inside and Stormy sat on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging above the ground as Andre put together a salad. She had just let out a rich laugh at something Andre had said when I stepped to her side and leaned over her, reaching for the pepper grinder. As my outstretched arm brushed against her stomach I heard as much as felt her suck in a breath and hold it. 

I looked up into her eyes and nearly groaned aloud at the darkening of her iris's as she stared right back at me. The music cut off dramatically and Andre said something from very far away even though he was standing in the same room as us. My left hand landed on her denim covered thigh and my right gripped the edge of the counter hard as I lost myself in the deepening pools of blue. 

Stormy licked her lips once before her hand raised to the front of my shirt and with the material tightly locked in her fist she pulled me between her parted legs. Her eyes were narrowed as she studied my lips and then she leaned forward and pressed her soft mouth to mine. I tried to remind myself that this was the last thing she needed but her good hand raised to place itself against the back of my neck, her fingers wrapping in the curls and tugging as she turned her head to fit her lips to mine more securely.

I was just deciding to reciprocate, my lips hardening against hers as my hands traveled from her thighs to her waist when Andre grabbed the tongs from beside us and set to work flipping the chicken. "Now you know I don't blame you two for attacking each other but could the make out sesh wait until after my food is cooked?"

I break the kiss unceremoniously and step back, reigning in my libido. Stormy looks shocked at the situation and I take the time to brush her ever present bangs back behind her ear. I can tell that she is regretting the decision to kiss me and I make it easy on her by aiming a disarming grin at her. I roll my eyes at her, sweeping the whole exchange under the rug, and say to Andre, “Your food wasn’t going to burn. I’m the grill master. I know things.” I move from in front of her and take the pepper grinder with me. 

After dinner Andre does the dishes while Stormy plays outside with Driver who is relentless in his task of getting her to chase after him. 

I’m standing barefoot in the kitchen with a dishtowel waiting to dry more dishes, looking out the glass doors at Stormy as she gives in and sits down on a lounge chair, cuddling Driver close to her as he gets up on the padded seat beside her. The way she scoots over to make room for him does something to me and I take a moment to imagine her in my life. In our lives. Instead of just passing through.

Andre scoffs at the look on my face. “Snap out of it, man.”

I can’t help but sigh as I dry off a plate and carry it over to the cupboard to put away. “Can’t help it.”

“You know that’s the last thing she needs right now.”

I nod and purse my lips, silently agreeing with him. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Andre turns to me and shoots me a “do I look stupid?” glare. “It already happened.” He returns to doing the dishes and says warningly, “Don’t let it happen again.”

He doesn’t see the indecision on my face as I chew on my bottom lip in thought. 

Stormy came in from outside just as we were finishing dishes and stood uncertainly in the partition between the living room and kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

Andre smiles at her and flings the rag into the sink, “Nope. Just finished.” He leads her from the kitchen to the couch and powers the TV on, “And now we vegetate.”

Stormy laughs as she sits down beside him and I don’t even bother to tell Driver to get down when he follows suit and jumps up on the couch to lay down on her other side. Her hand automatically reaches for him and once again he’s on heaven as she absently strokes his fur.

It’s near midnight when I get up from the chair, yawning and stretching. “I’m going to get some sleep.” I look over at Andre, “Tomorrow we have that brunch. Don’t forget.”

Andre rolls his eyes at my reminder, “I know. It’s on the calendar.” He gets up next and turns to hold a hand out for Stormy. 

She pulls herself up with his help and smiles at both of us. “Thank you, guys. For giving me a place to crash and making me feel almost normal today.”

I move forward and give her a loose hug, “It’s no problem, Storm. Don’t mention it.”

Andre walks with her down the hall to her room and I’m staring in disbelief as Driver precedes her into the room and jumps up on the bed, looking at her innocently. “Driver, down!”

Stormy laughs and moves into the room after him. “I don’t mind, really. He can stay if he wants.”

I’m not a fan of Driver getting on the furniture but I let it slide because she honestly seems like she wants him there. “It’s your sleepless night.”

She just smiles at me from beside her bed. “I’ll kick him out if he steals all the blankets.”

Both Andre and myself tell her goodnight and I close the door behind me, at a loss for what to do now that Driver has abandoned me. “He’s a good dog.”

I nod in agreement at Andre’s assessment. “Yeah. He’ll take good care of her.”

We say goodnight and I go about getting ready for bed. I’m sliding beneath the down comforter of my bed when I hear the faint sound of sniffling. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and rub my palm across my bare chest. I listen closely, narrowing my eyes into the darkness, when I hear it again.

It’s not a sob, just a slight whimper followed by a shuddering breath. It takes a minute to register where the noise is coming from and I’m out of bed in my boxers, padding down the hall to the room at the end. As I pass Andre’s room his door opens and he’s standing there in his pajama pants and a large t-shirt.

We both come to stand outside of her closed door where the sound is emanating from. I cross my arms over my chest and lean heavily against the wall. Andre affects a similar pose, resting his back against the wall opposite me.

The sniffling stops and we can hear her talking in low, soothing tones to Driver. “I’m okay, sweetie.” He whines softly and her laugh is low and watery, her throat husking out the sound. “Thank you.” I can only imagine that the dog is consoling her as only he can and I turn back towards my room.

Andre stands there a little longer, unsure about leaving her. 

“Driver’s got this one, Dre.”

He studies the closed door for a moment longer before shaking his head and starting down the hall towards his own room. “He’s going to be her saving grace.”

I can only hope so. She needs all the help she can get and I’m not sure how much she’ll let us in.


	9. Chapter 9

Song: Can’t You See – Marshall Tucker Band

Josh 

When I woke up Sunday morning it was because Driver had jumped on my bed and curled up at my feet. I had a brief moment of panic that Stormy moving in was just a dream and then I opened my eyes and she was less than a foot away, staring at me with a half-smile.

I blinked a few times, trying to bring her into focus and I was tempted to pinch myself to be sure she was really there but then she extended the mug of coffee in her hand to me and said, “Good morning.”

Her voice was soft and her hair was sleep tousled. She looked incredible, like she’d just rolled out of bed and if she were mine I would have rolled her right back into it. Instead I reached for the coffee and sipped carefully, pushing myself up in bed to lean against the headboard. Stormy passed her hand across the edge of the comforter, looking down thoughtfully. When she finally glanced back up I could tell that whatever she had wanted to say or ask had been tossed aside in a moment of uncertainty. She smiled and took a step back, retreating physically and emotionally. “Andre said you have to leave in an hour.”

I placed my coffee on the nightstand and nodded. “Thanks for the wake up.”

She rolled her eyes as she made it to my door, Driver jumping off the bed to follow her. “It was no problem.”

Then she was out and closing the door behind her, taking my less than faithful dog with her. Not that I could blame him. I closed my eyes and slumped back against the pillows, more than grateful that I hadn’t kicked my blanket off in the middle of the night or she would have gotten an eyeful of the morning wood I was currently sporting. I got up to shower, wondering what Andre was thinking sending her into my room to wake me up. Was he asking for trouble?

I shake my head as I wash up, deciding not to linger under the spray in case I’m tempted to repeat my solo performance last time Stormy was on my mind when I was trying to get clean. Under the current situation, knowing she was under the same roof as me, held captive by the same walls I resided in, it was probably best if I didn’t jerk off every time I got the urge. I had a feeling I’d be getting the urge a lot.

I get dressed in jeans and a white tee, grabbing the Volcom hat that she had traded me for on my way out of the room. The house is eerily silent and I wonder where everyone is when I hear screaming coming from outside. I bolt to the front door and throw it open just in time to watch Stormy grab Driver’s collar with her good hand as he lunges for the man who is holding the camera. The dumbass is still taking pictures as my blue pit gnashes his teeth together and emits a deadly growl. 

“Miss Seasons, are you and Josh Hutcherson a couple?” I realize at that moment that he’s recording the exchange and I move forward hastily, grabbing Driver and pulling him back. I turn to Stormy and say, “Go get Andre!”

Stormy, tears tracking down her face and her hands shaking at her sides, turns and runs, her long legs eating up the distance between the middle of the driveway and the front door. I mutter, “No comment.” A half dozen times before Andre comes out, charges at the guy and catches him by surprise. The camera is ripped from the man’s grasp and Andre shoots him a deadly glare as he gently removes the SD card and slips it into his pocket. He holds the camera under one arm, cradling it carefully and making sure not to damage it in any way, while he dials the police with his free hand.

The paparazzo is yelling at Andre that he can’t do that when Andre hangs up and says, “If you want your camera back, you can stay right where you are and get it from the police when they get here. If you decide to leave without it, you’ll have to go out the same way you came in.”

Andre is a forceful man, much taller than my average height and built in a way I will never be. He’s a scary looking dude with a heart of gold and I don’t blame the guy in front of us as he looks around uneasily. I’m still wrestling with Driver, not about to leave Andre unattended with the trespasser when Stormy clips the leash on his collar. I look at her gratefully and smile. “Thank you.” My lips form the words, mouthing them silently and she just smiles back, still a little shaky and takes Driver from me, pulling him toward the house. The man, who must have scaled the 8 foot privacy walls around the property, stands defeated as Andre and I surround him. It doesn’t take long for the cops to arrive and the paparazzo is being escorted away, his camera now in police possession.

Andre claps me on the back as we walk into the house. “You might need to address this thing with Stormy. If they’re willing to climb the fence to get to her, I’m worried about what they’ll do next.”

I know he’s right and I hate him for it. I wanted her to come here and feel safe. The last thing I wanted was for her to have to deal with this bullshit. As soon as I enter the house I pause in a major way. Stormy is sitting on the edge of the oak coffee table, Driver in front of her, resting his head in her lap as she plays with his ears. Her eyes are huge with worry and they fill with tears before I can ask her if she’s okay. 

“I’m so sorry. You were in the shower and Andre was finishing a phone call in his room and I just stepped outside to get the paper. I figured with the fence and the gate nothing would happen.” She puts her good arm around Driver’s neck, hugging him to her protectively. “Please don’t be mad at him! He was just protecting me!” The way she presses her face into his fur combined with the concerned look Andre and Driver are both aiming at me cause me to sigh and move towards her.

I squat in front of her, one hand playing through the scruff on Driver’s neck and the other on Stormy’s knee. “Storm.” She blinks up at me, turning her cheek to rest against the top of the dog’s head. “Driver did exactly what he was supposed to do. He protected his territory but more than that, he was protecting you. I could never be mad at him for that.” The tears returning to her eyes had me holding out my arms and she seemed to grasp onto that invitation as she crumpled into them, tucking herself into the curves of my torso. I closed my eyes, pained that I might not be able to keep her safe after all. “We do need to talk about you staying here, though.”

She jerks back at that and I take a moment to really look at her. Her arm isn’t in the sling right now and it hangs from her shoulder heavily, making her look off kilter. The stiches above her left eye and the bruising that surrounds it looks painful and causes her eyebrow to sag the tiniest bit. The red marks at her throat probably piss me off the most because I know that’s how he held her down while he delivered blow after blow to her body. Not to mention the small peek I got into her inner demons yesterday while we were at her apartment. I believe her body was violated and it makes me want to rip the world to shreds. I can’t bear the thought of anyone being subjected to that and the fact that she was makes me bloodthirsty. I know, without a doubt, if Adam was standing in front of me right now, he wouldn’t be on his feet for long. And I’m not sure he would be breathing. I breathe deeply to steady myself because I am sure the last thing she needs right now is more violence in her life. 

Stormy’s eyes are studying mine so intently that I can’t remember what I was talking about for a moment and then she says, “I don’t want to leave.”

I can hear Andre choke behind me and I know he’s swallowing back tears. I’m having a hell of a time keeping mine at bay myself. Her voice when she spoke was small and unsure and broken and so far from the Stormy I know so I don’t argue and can only nod in return. “Then you don’t have to.”

Her whole body slumps in relief against mine and her head falls to my shoulder. Then she turns her face into my neck and whispers, “Thank you, Josh. For everything.” And my arms tighten around her as I let a few silent tears fall. I’m looking at Driver as I peer over her head and he sits proudly by as if guarding her. I repeat my actions from earlier only this time aiming my silently mouthed “Thank you” at my dog. His ears twitch as if he understands and it’s a long time before I am able to let her go.

The rest of Sunday passed by in a blur. We made it to Harry Denton’s for the Sunday’s a Drag brunch. The queens were amazing as always and Andre introduced Stormy to everyone. In a matter of minutes of us being there her sling was signed and decorated in colored Sharpie by the whole ensemble of performers. She was immediately adopted into the fold and at one point Lady Mona cornered me, dropped her falsetto and said to me in a rich baritone voice, “Take good care of her. And if you ever need help finding the bastard and kicking his ass, call me. I’ll gladly crush his nuts with my Choos.” I agreed to take her up on that offer and after the brunch we went home where we all piled into the living room and laid around, not up for much more excitement for the day. Stormy seemed to curl into herself in a corner of the couch with Driver and sleep most of the day. That night we all three went to our separate rooms and Driver didn’t even pause to look at me, following right after Stormy instead. 

I reminded myself to give him an extra treat in the morning.

Monday was slow and dragged along. Andre went into the offices and Stormy rested on the floor of the living room beside the bookcase as she started the Harry Potter series. Every once in a while I would stare at her from my place on the couch where I read through a pile of scripts and I would notice her far away gaze as she stared out the window. Then she would blink rapidly and look back down at the book, her lips softly curved into a secretive smile as she adventured to Hogwarts with Ron, Hermione and Harry.

When Andre got home right before dinner we were outside playing Frisbee with Driver. I noticed he would return it to Stormy more often than me but I brushed it off as no big deal. It seemed to make her happy and that was enough for me. Andre stepped outside and Stormy was the first to say, “Welcome home!”

Andre smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He put his hands on his hips and I moved closer to Stormy because I knew that stance and that was exactly what he did whenever he delivered painful news, like he had to brace himself to do it.

“Stormy, I’m so sorry.”

I watched her swallow tightly and the color drained from her face as she stood still, her body frozen in motion.

“Adam was released today.”

The moment her whole body started to tremble I grabbed her much the way I did in her apartment, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and carried her over to the cushioned bench seats surrounding the fire pit. She shook and choked back sobs one right after the other until she was finally able to say, “How? Why?”

Andre sat opposite us and explained to her, “The cops notified me. They still had my number on file from the hospital. Apparently they could only hold him for 48 hours. His hearing is a week from Wednesday but until then he is a free citizen.”

Stormy stared at Andre in horror. Her voice was weak and thready when she asked him, “Am I dreaming?”

Andre put his face in his hands for a moment, collecting himself, and when he looked back up his eyes were rimmed with red and cheeks were blotchy as he tried to hold everything in. “I’m so sorry, Storm. I don’t know what else to do.”

The way she reached for his hand as if to comfort him even though she was the one with her world falling apart is what broke me. I buried my face in her hair to get control and wasn’t surprised when I felt the bench dip with Andre’s weight as he moved to sit on her other side, cocooning her between us.

I don’t know how long we stayed that way, all three of us offering comfort and taking it at the same time. But it was Stormy that broke it by saying, “Well if there’s nothing we can do about it, I don’t want to sit here and mope.” She stood up and walked to the sliding glass doors, turning around and standing straighter than she had in the last few days. “My book comes out tomorrow and I’m not going to let him ruin this for me. I’ve let him have enough. He can’t have this too.”

She said it with such strength and determination that I couldn’t help but suck it up and stand up as well, Andre right after me. “Let’s get dinner started.”

Stormy’s eyes lit up as she pushed the negative of the day away, sweeping it all under some internal rug. “I want to grill this time.”

I make a face at her, “I don’t think so.” I lead them both into the house and into the kitchen, stopping when I notice a Verizon bag on the island. “Did you pick up her phone?”

Stormy looked between us, “What phone? Mine?”

Andre dumped the bag out as I got everything ready for dinner. “Yep. This is yours. You’re on my account since Josh’s is provided through his work. I had your old number and I talked them into transferring your contacts over. Everything should be there.”

Stormy shakes her head as she takes the phone from Andre, scrolling through everything. “I don’t know what to say.” She looks up at him and smiles widely, the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her all day, and then she hugs him and laughs. “Andre, you’re possibly the greatest person to have ever existed.”

Andre grins and rolls his eyes, “You’re part of our family now, Stormy. We’re kind of like the mafia. Only better dressed.” He glances over at me and I narrow my eyes playfully, “Well, one of us is.”

I look down at my striped sweater and faded jeans. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“I bet the tag says Garanimals.” 

I chuckle and throw a bag of carrots at him which he deflects. He’s such an asshole. I hear Stormy laugh as he continues to crack jokes about my wardrobe and I decide he may be an asshole, but Stormy was right. He is the greatest person ever.

Stormy

Tuesday morning I wake up with an overwhelming mixture of dread and excitement. Driver is curled into my side, snuffling into the pillow beside my head. Growing up we moved around a lot and I never had a pet. I loved animals, though, and when I had moved to California years ago 4041 didn’t allow them. That had changed in the last year and I had gone in search of my very own pet-mate but I couldn’t decide on just one. And after the hard realization that I couldn’t save all of them I had stopped looking because visiting shelter after shelter had become a heartbreaking routine. I always left empty handed and much poorer after stroking out checks for donations. 

Driver was definitely reminding me that one day I still wanted a pet of my own. Although for now he seemed content to fill that space. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and pad across the room and out the door to the bathroom in the hallway. As I pass the mirror I notice my grin that I can’t seem to stifle. My book is being released today and although it has already been sold to be made into a movie it’s not the same as people wanting to buy it and take the time to sit down with it. Flipping the pages and letting their imaginations visit my world and my characters for however long they let them in.

It’s a giddy feeling that’s like a tight knot in my abdomen while at the same time an airy feeling encompasses me. I can’t wait to see what the sale numbers are like by Friday when I have my signing. I know though, that even if I sell just one more copy that wasn’t on preorder, I will be ecstatic. 

I finish in the bathroom and venture out into the living room. I freeze in my tracks as I realize there is a room full of people and I am in nothing more than a tank top and thin cotton pajama pants. I must have made a squeak somewhere in the back of my throat because every pair of eyes in the room turns and stops on me. I take a few steps in retreat and then turn around and bolt for my room, shutting Driver out in the hall. 

I grab a pair of jeans and a Zeppelin tee from the bag I still haven’t unpacked. I’ve just pulled the shirt over my head when I hear Josh say, “Stormy? Can I come in?”

I hop around with one foot in my jeans as I respond, “Just a second.” I finally get them pulled up and fastened and then I swing open the door, coming face to face with Josh. 

He’s already showered and shaved and smells incredible, his eyes making a fast assessment of my state of dress. Finally he steps aside but before I can move past him he says, “I think we should talk in here.” He leads me back into my bedroom and closes the door behind me. I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting. Any good feeling I had a few minutes ago is gone and now I’m staring up at Josh as he paces the empty space between my bed and the wall. He turns to me suddenly and I cringe. “Do you remember the threats Adam made to you?”

I nod, of course I do. It’s hard to forget something like that.

“He did it.” Josh says on an exhaled breath and I fall to the bed, my knees not able to support me any longer. I search his face imploringly for any sign of madness through the blur of my watery eyelashes. Finally he lowers himself beside me, not quite touching me. “I called my publicist and Scholastic sent over their lawyer. It hasn’t actually been released yet so there’s always a chance. Vivid Video is sitting on it for 24 hours, waiting for a response.”

His words aren’t making any sense. Vivid Video is the porn agency that ruins celebrities lives by releasing their sex tapes. I pat his arm with my hand and say, “Wait. What? What does that have to do with you?”

Josh blinks a few times until recollection hits. “No. He hasn’t come after me, Stormy. He released the tape of you two.”

My vision clouds in on the corners and I suck in a sharp breath that never makes it to my lungs. I don’t quite faint but it’s close. Josh grabs me by the back of my neck and pushes my head forward until I’m ducked down between my legs and he’s instructing me on how to breath. When my intake levels out he releases me and I slowly come back up, the blood rushing from my face. I brace myself with my hands on my knees and steady myself. He did it. He really did it. 

“No one’s seen it.”

Josh shakes his head. “No. It hasn’t been released yet. Your lawyer is going to meet with Vivid’s lawyers later to make sure it isn’t fake and to discuss the legalities of it.”

“So it can be stopped?” My voice is filled with the hope that blossoms in my chest until Josh shakes his head. 

“I highly doubt it. They’ll be talking price tags.”

I let out a choked noise and fall back on the bed, wincing at the impact on my back and shoulder but sighing long and low afterwards. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Josh lays back gently and we both stare up at the colorful scarves above us. His hand finds mine and it’s warm and strong, his fingers capturing mine tightly, lending me strength. “You’ll get through this.”

I leans my head to the side so my cheekbone is resting against his shoulder. I don’t have the heart to tell him I doubt it. I am a strong person but I don’t know how I’m going to hold myself together if this video gets out.

Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes silently and I let them as I take comfort in Josh’s inviting warmth.

After meeting with the lawyers and publicist while Andre and Josh hovered nearby I wasn’t any calmer than I had been earlier. Emma, Josh’s publicist, is talking to me about putting a positive spin on this whole situation. At first I look at her like she’s not human but the longer I listen the more she makes sense. This video is being released without my consent which makes me the innocent one. I’m not even aware of being recorded which means if I’m not playing to the camera then most likely people will realize that I’m the innocent party. If anything, people will see me as wronged and the pity they’ll feel for something so personal being released to the public without my consent will win me some points.

She makes excellent points but I just want the whole situation to disappear and they have already assured me that that was not going to happen. We discuss a settlement price instead and I flat out refuse to take any money. Josh clears his throat to interject. “Stormy, the settlement is so that if this does interfere with your book sales or you are sued by Lionsgate or Scholastic it will help to cover the fees.”

I look over at the lawyer from Scholastic. Mr. Davis nods in agreement. “Scholastic is not planning to sue. But I don’t know about the production company. They are still in a meeting about this newest development.” 

After a long moment of silence where Driver came over to me and nudged my leg with his nose, I finally sniffled and nodded. “Okay. Set a reasonable price.”

The day went on in much the same fashion with legalese talk and a lot of waiting. Hours later Josh showed Emma and John out and then returned to me. He sat next to me on the couch and glanced at the TV. I leaned my head back on the couch and felt my body deflate as I said, “You should probably turn it on. I’m going to have to deal with it sooner or later.” 

I sat on the couch, curled into a ball feeling sick to my stomach as Driver pressed close to me on one side and Andre on the other. A handful of tissues were clenched in my fist as I watched various entertainment news programs, bashing me. I was called every name I could think of and some I had never heard before.

Dinner passed and nobody ate, nobody even bothered to get up to get food. I heard back from John and we were settling at 3 million. Scholastic wasn’t going to sue me. Lionsgate was holding out for the video to be released before they made their decision. And book sales had been huge, more so from the publicity of a possible sex tape, although a woman in her mid-forties was caught outside of a bookstore in Wisconsin walking out with it in her hand and when she was asked about buying it for her kid she just smiled and said, “I don’t have kids, I’m buying it for me.”

Apparently my demographic ranged from teens to adults and that helped lean the sales in my favor. People were curious and because of that they were willing to go buy my book.

It wasn’t until much later when the evening talk shows came on that I held my breath. We sat through the monologues of each one and when Conan came on my whole body tensed in fear. He and Andy did their shtick and then they introduced their first guest. Then their second. Then the guest musician. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Everyone else’s comments hurt deeply but because I knew Conan personally I know I would have felt even more betrayed had he said something. I would have understood that it was the price of entertainment but I would have been hurt all the same. 

Not long after that did I excuse myself to go to bed. My body and mind were exhausted and my emotions were scraped raw and all I wanted was to sink into oblivion. As I crawl between the sheets in panties and a tank top I am left alone in the silence of my dark room and I make a mental note of the people I need to call tomorrow. My mom and dad, Suzanne, the B&N I’m supposed to be signing at Friday. I’d like to issue a personal apology since I’m sure they’re going to cancel on me anyways.

Driver delivers a long lick to one of my tear-stained cheeks and I grab his mouth with my hand, loosely holding his teeth shut as I give him a big kiss in return. “Thank you, Driver. I needed that.” We lay there, keeping each other warm, for a long time.

Eventually I hear Andre’s door close and then Josh’s footsteps as he walks past my room. They stop abruptly and I hold my breath, wondering if he’s stopped outside of my door or if he turned into the bathroom across the hall. Suddenly his footsteps start again and I let out a slow breath, almost shocked at the disappointment I feel settle behind my breastbone. I lay away for a very long time, trapped in self-loathing until finally I can’t take another second of it. I get out of bed and pull on my cotton pants, quietly letting myself out of my room and make my way down to the end of the hall where I’m sure he’s sleeping peacefully. I knock softly and when I get no answer I feel my face tighten as needle prick behind my eyeballs. I rest my back against the wall, sliding down slowly until my butt is on the hardwood floor, my knees pulled up to my chest and held in place with my right arm. I lean my head against the barrier between us and Driver walks over to me, flopping down on top of my feet and huffing out a breath.

I’ve just started to slip into a dream when the door is opened and I jolt my head back from its resting place. Josh is staring down at me in confusion, rubbing a hand across his chest. He stands in front of me in a pair of navy colored boxer briefs. “Stormy?” He reaches a hand down to pull me up. “Why are you in the hallway?”

I look in his room, my ultimate destination because I know when Josh is near me I will actually be able to rest. “I knocked but you didn’t answer.” 

Josh stares down at me, eyes heavy with sleep, and shakes his head before leading me into his room. “I woke up when Driver stretched and his nails scratched at the door.” He closes the door behind us and the dog in question wanders over to his bed on the floor in the corner near a papasan chair. Josh slips under the sheet and blanket and then scoots over to the cold side of the bed. I know this because when I climb between the sheets that he’s holding up for me to get under I lay down in the warm spot where his body had been. Josh pulls me closer until he’s on his back and I’m on my right side, my head tucked against his chest right under his arm. My left hand lands on the warm skin on his side against the large black and red tattoo and he turns his head to place a kiss against my hair.

“Good night, Stormy.”

I burrow my face in a little deeper and inhale him. I let his warmth seep into my bones and his smell invade every place inside of me until I’m full and comfortably weighed down. My eyes close in relief and I let myself drift away, trusting Josh to be my anchor in this storm.

 

Sources: 

http://www.harrydenton.com/index.php?page=events&event=drag


	10. Chapter 10

**Song: Janis Joplin – Cry Baby**

**Josh**

 

I woke up Wednesday morning to the tickling warmth of Stormy’s face pressed into my neck and her soft breath against my skin.  She had wrapped herself around me in the night, her left leg hooked over my hip and her left arm resting on my chest and stomach.  Her fingers were spread through the thin line of hair on my lower abdomen that led straight down to the only part of me this morning that was wide awake.  I squeezed my eyes closed and attempted to will it away but then her thigh shifted and rubbed against me and I let out the smallest sound of pleasure.  Stormy sucked in a breath and her fingers tightened against the hair near the waistband of my boxers. 

 

She murmured, “Sorry, Josh.”  And started to move her leg away, taking great care to not rub against me again.  Her fingers released my happy trail and her lips moved from my neck. 

 

I whispered, “Don’t worry about it.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and facing away from her.  I made it into the bathroom without looking over my shoulder at her, more than impressed with myself.  I splashed water on my face and then braced my hands against the granite sink while I leaned down, willing my erection away.  It wasn’t the easiest task but I did it and then I turned to go back out to the bedroom, balls heavy and aching with awareness.

 

Stormy was sitting up in bed, her face pained, her right hand rubbing her left arm where her bicep was. 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Stormy smiles over at me, taking her eyes off the TV and raising her eyebrows, “Just a little stiff, and you?”

 

I can’t help but laugh.  “Next time I’m wearing layers.”

 

Her smile softens and she pats the mattress beside her, inviting me back into bed.  I can’t help but rejoin her and settle against the headboard beside her.  The TV is on the world news and she’s paying careful attention to the tickertape at the bottom of the screen.  “What’s going on?”

 

She doesn’t take her eyes off of it for a second.  “While you were in the bathroom Emma called.  I checked to see who it was before I answered it.”

 

I shrug because it doesn’t really matter.  I don’t have a whole lot to hide.  Not from Stormy.  “What did she have to say?”

 

Stormy bites her bottom lip roughly and then sighs, “It was released this morning.”

 

I know she’s talking about the tape and I can’t find the words to make it better so I just offer my comfort by putting an arm around her and pulling her into my side.  “What’s with the news?”

 

She relaxed into me and closed her eyes, slowly drifting back to sleep as she said, “I just wanted to see if I made headlines.”  And then she was asleep and I stayed like that, trying not to disturb her for an hour until my arm went completely numb.  I watched the ticker.  She was mentioned repeatedly.

 

**Stormy**

 

I woke up in Josh’s otherwise empty bed, a pillow bunched under my head and the blanket pulled up to my chin.  I smiled and stretched out, enjoying the looseness of my muscles after a good night’s sleep.  My cheeks warm when I remember waking up earlier this morning, my body on Josh’s and his immediate reaction.  I can’t stifle the grin that tingles on my lips.  I get up to use the bathroom and stop when I push open the door and catch sight of my reflection.

 

My left eye isn’t bruised much but the stitches are still prevalent and the contrast of dark thread to my pale skin makes me resemble some type of monster.  I’m staring at myself head on and I can see the delineation in my arm where the tendon snapped.  My shoulder hangs lower than my right one and I look uneven and haggard.  My hair is a tangled mess and my blue eyes are faded and washed out.  The marks around my neck have softened to a light yellow that blends into my natural skin tone.  I raise the bottom of my tank top to check out the marks on my stomach.  There are four round blue bruises scattered across my midsection. 

 

A sound from behind me causes me to drop the material back into place and glance up in the mirror at Josh’s reflection.  He’s holding my phone down by his side and his eyes are still focused on me in the mirror as if he can see through my top to the contusions beneath.  I turn around to face him.  “It’s okay, Josh.”

 

He holds up my phone and shakes his head, “Don’t ever say that to me.  It will never be okay.”  His eyes are narrowed and his lips have flattened in anger, his body practically vibrating with negative energy. 

 

I take my phone from his clenched hand and place it behind me on the sink before stepping forward into his body.  I wrap my arm around him and lean my head against his shoulder.  “Josh,” I whisper pleadingly.  I don’t want him to be angry.

 

His arms twine around me and he picks me up, slowly bringing me closer to his body.  He takes a few steps forward until the backs of my thighs hit the sink and then he lowers me, keeping his body fit to mine.  One hand travels down to the small of my back and lower where his fingers tighten against my ass.  I gasp and shift towards him, sucking in a breath again as the notch in my thighs comes into contact with his growing erection.  The warmth that shoots through my body surprises me and I shudder delightedly.  Josh dips his head down to brush his lips against mine and my right hand resting on the back of his shirt starts to claw desperately at the material.  His tongue sweeps out to lick his lips and strokes mine as well while my left hand clutches the edge of the sink as tight as possible, which isn’t much.

 

Josh angles his head to fit his lips to mine and nudges my mouth open to accept his tongue.  The moment his touches to mine, I swallow a gasp and make a mewling noise deep in my throat that he seeks for, spearing into my mouth and gliding across my teeth.  His kiss mimics our lower halves, although I am the one jerking against him and he is simply letting me. 

 

I’ve finally found a rhythm and my feet hook around his legs to hold him in place as I ride against the zipper of his cargo pants and the thick length straining behind it.  His hand falls down to my breast and his thumb rubs across my hardened bud.  It’s that last small touch that unwinds me and I break my mouth from his and lean my head back, trusting him to keep me upright, as I come pressing myself tightly to him. His name tumbles from my tongue in a rush as I clench and release and my panties dampen due to him.  I return to earth as he whispers my name and brushes his hand through my hair repeatedly.

 

I finally open my heavy lidded eyes and sigh, my hands dropping to his waist, ready to repay the favor.  Josh steps back quickly, moving out of my reach.  “Your parents called.”  He nods to the spot where I laid my phone down.  “It’s probably a good idea to call them back.”

 

I watch him retreat and my voice is questioning when I say his name.  “Josh?”

 

He turns back to me and smiles, “That was for you, just for you.”

 

I watch him leave the bedroom and I work on evening out my breathing, my thighs tingling in awareness and my inner muscles still quivering in anticipation.  I release one long breath and turn my body on the sink to lean against the wall, pressing my legs together to savor the feeling.  I imagine I can still feel him right there and I shiver.  I pick up my phone instead and return the call to my parents.

 

After an hour of listening to them on speaker phone my mom finally drives my dad out of the room they’re in and says, “So who is this man you’re staying with?”

 

“Mom.”

 

“Don’t you dare ‘Mom’ me.  You know I prefer Cathy, dear.”

 

I roll my eyes, “Fine, Cathy, it’s Josh.  He’s a good friend.”

 

“How good, dear?”

 

I think back to what he did to me just a little bit ago, “Really good.”

 

My mom’s laugh tinkles like chimes on a breeze and I can hear the bangles at her wrist clang together as she moves around the room holding the phone to her ear so my dad won’t hear my answer.  They’re both free-spirited but when it comes to his little girl my dad is still protective.  It’s one of the many things I love about both of them.  My mom encourages a healthy sex life while my father frowns upon it but accepts there are things I’m going to do that he disapproves of.  My parents were the greatest.  In small doses.

 

We talked about the sex tape and my mom said she had watched it already.

 

“Cathy!”

 

She huffed out a breath, affronted.  “Well?  I wanted to make sure you were doing it right!”

 

“You paid some website to watch your daughter have sex!  That’s more than a little disturbing, Cathy.”

 

“First of all, I downloaded it illegally.  Why would I pay to watch you have sex?  There should be rights.  I’ve got rights.  I created you and you created the tape so in a way it was also mine.”

 

“Oh my god, mom.  Please, just stop now.”

 

“I don’t see the big deal.  It was very tasteful.  It barely showed anything.”

 

I felt a spark of hope in my chest.  “Really?”

 

My mom cleared her throat and then snuffed out all hope when she said, “Not really.  I was just trying to spare you the pain.  Your father and I have made plenty of videos but I know you’re not really into that.”

 

“I’m going to hang up now, mom.”

 

“Okay, dear.  We love you and can’t wait for Christmas!”

 

I groan and end the call, pressing the back of the phone to my forehead for a moment.  I would like to call Suzanne and then the Barnes and Noble, neither of which will be easy and I decide before I tackle anything else today I could really use some food and a change of clothes.

 

I get dressed and meet up with Andre out in the living room.  He’s watching something on Lifetime and I sit beside him, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on his lap.  He passes me a tissue from the box to his right and I accept it even though these movies rarely bring me to tears.

 

A little while later I’m bawling and Andre is dry-eyed while I hoard the tissue box to myself, clutching it to my chest like a security blanket.  “What’s the name of this movie so I make sure I never watch it again?”

 

Andre laughs a little and replies, “Eye for an Eye.  Sally Fields is amazing, right?”

 

I nod in agreement and then breathe out in relief as the credits start rolling.  I reach for my phone and notice Andre hasn’t moved from beside me, he’s staring out the window to where Josh and Driver have been hanging out for the last hour or so.  It’s late November and the temperatures have dropped but it isn’t so cold outside that I should be worried.  Then I realize that he might be hiding from me.  And then I think back to my conversation with my mom.  

 

“Did you both watch the tape or was it just Josh?”

 

Andre glances at me from the corner of his eye.  “The lawyer dropped it off while you were still sleeping.  Neither of us has seen it.  It’s still sitting up on the counter.”

 

I walk over to the door leading outside and Josh glances over at me briefly before turning back to throw the ball for Driver.  He looks back again and I put a hand up against the glass, my palm turned out towards him.  Josh smiles and waves his fingers at me before wrestling the ball from Driver once again.  I go back to my bedroom, taking my phone out to call the bookstore.

 

After being put through the proper channels, I’m finally talking to a manager and she is quick to assure me that the signing is still taking place.  “Word comes down from corporate and they are excited for this venture.  They told me you or your assistant might call in to confirm that the date hasn’t changed.  We are aware of the leaked videotape and we will have heightened security for that reason alone.  You never know how fans will react.” 

 

I thank her profusely and she laughs it off.  “We’ve all had creep ex-boyfriends.  I’m sorry you have to deal with it like this though.”

 

I hang up with her and decide I’m on a roll so I can Suzanne.  I get her voicemail and leave her a message, “I’m sure by now you know why I’m calling.  I just wanted to get in touch and make sure you don’t think I’m a horrible person.  You’re pretty much my only friend.”  My breath hitches and I manage to leave the rest of the message without crying, but barely, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.  Call me back when you get a second.”

 

Driver barrels through my bedroom door and jumps onto my bed, panting in my face.  I laugh and push his muzzle away, kissing him on his slack-skinned doggy cheek instead.  He plops down near my hip and I sit with him, running my hand over his flank for a long while, emptying my mind of everything.  Josh comes in a little later and asks me if I need anything from the store.  I just shake my head and thank him anyway.  He makes it clear to me that both he and Andre are leaving and asks me if I’ll be okay.  I can sense that he’s trying to give me privacy to watch the tape.  I tell him I’ll be fine and make a point of rubbing Driver’s ear. 

 

I hear the front door close and I pretty much hop off the bed and rush down the hall to stare at the package on the kitchen counter where the rest of the mail is stacked.  I open the padded envelop, my fingers shaking, and I return to my room where a TV and Blu-ray/DVD player is set up in the corner.  I pop in the DVD and sit on the edge of the bed with the remote.  After a few quick breaths I steady myself and press play. 

 

Not even five minutes in and I am running to the bathroom.  I lose every kernel of popcorn I had eaten earlier and gasp for air.  It’s much worse than I thought and I can’t believe my mom didn’t warn me.  Then again maybe she thought it was every day that I allowed my lover to tie me to my bedposts by my wrists and ankles before letting him pleasure me with a small cache of sex toys.  I dry heave until my stomach and back hurt unbearably and then I go back into the bedroom to the sound of Adam saying, “Beg for it, Stormy.  Tell me you want it.  Tell me you want it bad.”  My eyes are blindfolded and I’m writhing in pleasure as he assaults my senses.  Then I hear myself beg for it and I slap the power button on the TV until the screen goes dark.

 

I barely make it to the bed before I collapse, sobbing into the comforter.  Driver lays beside me, whining and trying to nudge me with his nose.  Josh finds me when he comes home and lays on the bed behind me silently, curving his front to my back, settling in. 

 

It’s a long time before Josh says, “I’m sorry, Stormy.”

 

I shake my head softly, “Please don’t apologize.  That just seems to make it worse.  Like I let down more than just myself.”

 

“You think you let me down?”  Josh sits up and then pulls me up to face him.  “Is that what you think of me?  Has it not occurred to you that you were a fucking victim?  You didn’t just lay there and let him record you.  You didn’t give him permission to do that.  You didn’t just let him beat you.  Or rape you.  Or even put you in the fucking hospital.”  He stops short as he realizes he’s just voiced the one thing I haven’t even begun to deal with.  “Shit, I’m sorry Stormy, I shouldn’t have-“

 

“I did let him, though.”  I bite my trembling lip and look up at him through teardrops on my eyelashes.  “I let him rape me.  I never said no.”

 

Josh closes his mouth and shakes his head, “That doesn’t mean you said yes.  It was still rape.”

 

“I didn’t put up a fight.”

 

“You shouldn’t have had to!  It shouldn’t have happened in the first place!”

 

I look away from the anger in his eyes, the anger that he harbors on my behalf.  “I never tried to stop him.  I wanted to, but I was afraid.”

 

Josh gets up from the bed and paces to the window and back again.  “You were in survivor mode.  You knew if you tried to stop him he would just beat you.  Right?”

 

I nod quickly, agreeing with him.  “Yes.”

 

Josh kneels down in front of me on the floor while I rest on the bed.  “It wasn’t your fault, Stormy.  None of this was.  He threatened you with me.  I’d say because you were trying to protect me you were more susceptible to his abuse.  So would you blame me?”

 

My face crumbles as I reach for him.  “No!  Don’t say that, Josh!”  I fall into his arms and he holds me close while I bury my face on his shoulder and cry.  “It’s not your fault.  Please.”  That last word comes out on a hiccupping breath as I try to reassure him that I place no blame on him.  I need him to understand that much.

 

“I blame you as much as you blame me, Stormy.”  He leans back until I look at him, a blurry face through my wall of watery eyes.  “Which is not at all.”

 

He seems to be able to talk me down from whatever ledge I’m teetering on.  When I finally fall asleep from sheer exhaustion and emotional overload, it’s to the sound of his voice telling me a story about when he and his younger brother spent a week in the woods.  I mumbled, “I love camping.”  It must have surprised him because he stopped talking for what seemed like forever and then in my half asleep state I hear him tell me he’d have to take me some time. 

 

Thursday morning I wake up to Driver’s hot breath wafting over my face.  I blink my eyes open only to cough and turn my head the other way.  Driver takes that as an invitation and his long tongue spreads saliva across half of my face.  “Jesus, D.  Your breath smells like ass.”  I grumble as I push him away and struggle to sit up.  It takes me a moment to get my bearings as I’m almost positive I fell asleep in the guest room last night, except I’m waking up in Josh’s room with his comforter tucked in around me, again, and his dog breathing on me heavily.

 

I swing my legs to the side of the bed and gently ease myself down to my feet.  I sniffle as I shuffle towards the bathroom and then pause for an exorbitant amount of time in front of the mirror.  My eyes aren’t studying myself as they did yesterday.  Instead, I’m staring down at the edge of the sink where Josh had given me that wonderful gift yesterday.  I shake myself out of replaying the memory and use the facilities, afterwards exiting the bathroom and bedroom to move towards the kitchen.  I can hear a few voices and I stop around the corner, pressing my back to the wall in the hallway, out of sight so I can listen to the conversation going on.

 

“I’ll go with her.  I have the morning off but I have a meeting with a campaign team in the afternoon.  I’ll have to leave around noon.”

 

Josh replies to Andre, “That won’t leave her alone very long.  I’ll be able to swing by about 1.  And I can stay with her until she’s done.”

 

“Josh, do you really think that’s a good idea?  I know you want to be supportive, but with all of the media already surrounding you two, do you think sitting beside her at her first book signing is going to help kill any of the rumors?”

 

Josh is quiet and then he says, “You didn’t see her last night.  I’m not leaving her alone.”

 

“That’s just it, man.  She won’t be alone.  I talked to Emma and she said they were bringing in twice the amount of security.  If the public finds out you’re there with her, they’ll have to triple it, if not more.  Try not to forget that you’re fucking famous.”

 

“Fuck.”  I can hear the defeat in Josh’s voice as he reluctantly agrees, “Fine.  But I am going to drop by at least.”

 

“And I’m sure she would appreciate that.”

 

I’m smiling as I roll my eyes and come around the corner, “I would appreciate it.”  I stop and give Andre a kiss on the cheek as I walk to the refrigerator.  “And I would be honored to have you escort me tomorrow.”  I pour a glass of orange juice and turn around to face both boys, “But today I get to have my stitches taken out.  Would either of you be interested in running me into L.A. around lunch time?  I think my car is still over at…at Bunker Towers.”  I can’t quite bring myself to say his name still and there’s a small part of me that feels defeated at this fact.

 

Josh looks over at the clock on the oven and winces.  I take that as a no and I can see him mentally shuffling around his plans for the day.  I look over at Andre instead.  Andre’s smiling at Josh’s inner turmoil and waits until he has fully realized he can’t, before saying, “Sure.  I’ll take you.”

 

I laugh at Andre and nudge Josh with my elbow as I move out of the kitchen.  “Thanks, Andre.  And do you think we could pick up my car?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Josh follows me into my bedroom and I look over at him, both brows raised.  “Yes?”

 

“I wanted you to know that Emma has advised both Andre and myself to watch the tape.  We aren’t going to, but she wanted us to know what we’d be dealing with.”

 

Emma is probably right.  It hasn’t escaped the public’s knowledge that I’m living with Josh for the moment.  Fans are clamoring to find out what’s going on and Josh will probably be bombarded with questions before too long.  As innocent bystanders, Josh and Andre both live high profile lives and both will be hounded by the media.  Josh is midsentence, explaining to me why it’s none of their business when I say, “I want you to.”  A small part of me also hopes that if he watches it he’ll be repulsed and never want to touch me again.

 

I know Josh is attracted to me.  I’ve known since that moment he spoke to me at the concert back in May.  I wish he wasn’t though, because I’m half in love with him and I know right now nothing is going to happen between us.  I’m far from ready and far from deserving of Josh’s love.  I say more definitively, “I want you to watch it.”

 

Josh looks down at the floor for a moment, as if he can’t find the words to tell me he doesn’t want to when he looks back up at me and nods instead.  “Fine.  I will.”

 

“And Andre too.”

 

Josh swallows and the tears in his eyes as he looks towards the window glisten in the light, “I’ll tell him.”

 

I lick my lips nervously and say, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry about all of this.”  I hold up a hand when he scowls and begins to retaliate.  “I know you’re going to say none of this is my fault, and I hope one day I feel the same way, but for now I’m bringing all of this drama to your front door and for that, I am sorry.”

 

Josh accepts my apology and leaves my room.  I sit in silence, a pillow hugged close to me, as I wonder what is happening to my life.  I decide to focus on tomorrow.  If I can make it through what awaits me then, I know I’ll be able to make it through anything.  Between my near past and near future, I will never need to question if I am strong enough.  I’ll know I am.

 

Friday morning I barely hear my alarm when Andre bursts through the door of my bedroom.  “Rise and shine, cupcake!”  He shoos Driver off the bed and then jumps into his spot, climbing under the blankets with me.  I laugh as he cuddles down into the empty space and puts his head beside mine on my pillow.  I turn my face and place a smacking kiss against his cheek.

 

“Morning, Andre.”

 

Andre is looking up at the colorful scarves above my bed when he says, “Just to put it out there, we watched the video last night.  Josh barely made it through before he stormed out of the room.” 

 

I blink fast so tears don’t have a chance to build up in my eyes.  “Was it horrible?  I haven’t watched it all.”

 

“It wasn’t great.”  Andre is quiet and I can practically hear him trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation when he says, “Next time try night vision.  That shit made Paris Hilton look good.  Imagine what it would do for you.”

 

I grin and elbow him lightly.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

We get ready for the day and I hear Josh’s alarm going off as we’re walking down the hall to leave.  I look at Andre and he nods towards the closed door.  I knock and upon no answer, I push the door open to reveal an empty room.  His bed is in disarray and I can hear the water running in the bathroom. 

 

I step further into the room and say, “Josh?  We’re leaving.”

 

I barely make out the sound of banging around and then a muffled curse before he’s flinging the bathroom door open and cringing as he holds a towel around his waist.  I bite my lip and take him all in before I turn to face the other direction so he doesn’t see how red my face is or how my body reacts to him half naked and completely wet.  I clench my thighs together and try to ignore the tingling in my breasts.  “Good luck!”

 

I nod and hold up a hand in acknowledgement and then bolt out of there.  I don’t look back because if I do I’ll probably ask him if he wants company.  I groan in embarrassment as I pass Andre at the front door.  He must be psychic because he doesn’t need to ask me what happened, he laughs outright and follows me to the car.

 

When we get to Barnes and Noble the store appears to be closed.  It takes me a moment to realize the people lining up outside aren’t waiting for the doors to unlock.  They’re waiting for me.  I turn to Andre in a total panic and wave my hand at him trying to get him to understand. 

 

“I know, I know.  But you’ll be fine.  Put your damn hand down before you poke my eyes out.”  He parks in the alleyway between buildings and I gasp for air, trying to find words.  I’m now fanning myself desperately trying to make air circulate through my lungs somehow.  Andre forces my head down between my knees and I regulate my breathing after a minute or two. 

 

The manager of the bookstore knocks on my window and I pop upright, causing the woman to laugh and jump back.  She opens the door for me and says, “You must be Miss Seasons.  Welcome to Barnes and Noble.  I’m Maria in case you need anything while you’re here today.”

 

“Like an oxygen machine?”

 

She laughs and takes my free arm that isn’t currently strapped into my sling.  “That could be arranged.”  We move between two huge men with shoulder radios and I look wide-eyed back at Andre who is currently sizing them up.  He looks at me and bobs his eyebrows, causing me to grin in return. 

 

Maria is amazing and has set up a table for me to sit at with enough space for Andre to sit beside me.  There are a stack of my books beside the table in a brown box and I run my hand across the cover of one.  I bite my lip to stem the tears that I can feel building up and I start signing books with Maria’s help as she holds the front flap open on them until I have three precise stacks of twenty.

 

“That should be good for now.  Sometimes people will want them personalized but others won’t.”  She stands up and hands both Andre and I bottles of water.  “And you should decide now if you want to have your picture taken.”

 

Andre had carefully applied foundation and a light blush to my cheeks prior to leaving the house.  The stitches from my eyebrow had left a barely noticeable mark and the worst of the wound above my eyebrow was healed.  The mark is still there but my eye isn’t sagging from the weight of the stitches, so I have already decided to grant picture requests.

 

Maria informs us that it’s time to let the line in and I brace myself.  Shockingly enough, the first face I see is Catherine and I press my face into my hand and start to cry.  Andre brings her around the table and I hug her to me, afraid to let her go.  I look up at her mom and mouth my thanks in silence.  Cat finally pulls back and says, “I heard you got in an accident and were in the hospital.  My mom said we couldn’t come see you but I made you a card!”  She pulls a folded up piece of construction paper from behind her back with the words ‘Get Better’ written in crayon and I tell her how beautiful it is.

 

“I’m so happy you’re here.”  She smiles, flashing metal on her teeth, and asks if I’ll sign her book.  “Of course.”  I sign it, ‘My first ever fan, Cat.’  I ask her to sign my sling and she sticks her tongue between her teeth as she concentrates on drawing a little cartoon kitten. 

 

Her mother promises to keep in touch and I make sure they have my number before I watch them go.  Andre turns me to face him and I let him dab at my dampened makeup with a tissue.  “Are you done with the waterworks?”

 

“I was just so afraid her mom wouldn’t let her come.  Ever since Tuesday I’ve been thinking about her and I was just stunned when I saw her standing there.”  I look up at him and try to smile through the worry, “This could ruin my career.”

 

Andre grins and chucks me on the chin.  “It could.  But it won’t.”  And then he sits back down and waves the next fan forward.

 

An hour later I flex my free hand and sign my name.  I keep expecting the line to end but it hasn’t yet and I’m half afraid it never will.  Maria brings me a bagel from the Starbucks inside the store and I pick at it between signings.  When it’s time for Andre to leave, he texts Josh and gives him a heads up.  There are two huge men standing at attention behind me and at some point Andre had weaseled out of the blond one that he was an ex-Seal.  I had looked him over appreciatively while Andre did the same.

 

Andre leaves as Maria brings me a fresh water bottle and I ask her to sit with me.  She agrees and we chat easily as fan after fan approaches me.  I’m looking to my right at her when someone tosses a book on the table in front of me and places their hands squarely in the center of it.  “Well, look at you.”

 

I turn my head, hoping I’m imagining the voice that speaks at me.  I look up from those long thick fingers that once wrapped around my throat.  Those strong hands that form heavy fists that have caused the contusions across my abdomen.  The sinewy forearms exposed by the sweater, pushed up to his elbows.  The toned biceps where he garners his strength and the broad shoulders I once held onto while we made love.  My eyes are wide as they travel up his neck to his whiskered chin, past his sneering lips and narrow nose to his blue assessing eyes.  I blink away the mirage in front of me only to realize he’s still there.

 

“Adam.”  His name is whispered past my thickened tongue and suddenly dry lips.

 

“So you haven’t forgotten my name.”  He nudges the book with his fingertips until I place my clammy palm on top of it and pull it the rest of the way towards me.  “You look good, Stormy.”  He tilts his head back and laughs, the sound rich and filled with loathing.  Then he stops abruptly and says, “I see lover boy isn’t here today.”

 

“Who says he isn’t?”

 

I start at Josh’s voice and Adam’s eyes narrow on me before he turns around and straightens to his full height.  Josh is standing to his left and his fists are clenched down at his sides.  The security team behind me seems to be on alert as they watch the standoff.  Finally Adam breaks the silence by replying, “How do my sloppy seconds taste?”

 

Josh grins but I can see the malice in his eyes as he says, “Delicious.”  Adam must not be expecting such a quick response because his mouth closes with a snap and then Josh nods his head towards the exit.  “It would be a good idea if you left now.”

 

Adam’s lips curl into a hateful grin as he says, “Really?”  But the word doesn’t even get the chance to form a question at the end before Josh’s fist lands on Adam’s mouth.  Adam raises a hand to check his lip and Josh doesn’t wait to send his left towards his face as well.  Adam’s head jerks to the side and Josh’s right fist is back again and making contact with his temple.  He stumbles to the side and comes up against a rack of books.  One of the brutes has pulled my chair back and is standing in front of Maria and myself, shielding us from the violence.  We stare at each other behind his sculpted back. 

 

The blond counterpart moves forward to stop Josh and I yell, “Not him.  The other one.  He’s the one that beat me.”  The whole crowd seems to suck in a startled breath at my declaration and then I move around from behind the bodyguard and confess, “He’s the one that did this to me.”

 

Josh grabs the front of Adam’s sweater with both bloodied hands and pulls his limp body towards him and down to his level.  “If you ever touch her again or come near her, I’ll fucking kill you.”  He releases him with a shove and comes around the table to me.  The crowd is in near hysterics at Josh’s proclamation and it isn’t long before the cops show up.  Adam is taken away and Josh is led to an office in the back of the bookstore to make a statement.  Maria and a few of her coworkers apologize and clear the waiting patrons out of the store.  I sit awkwardly as my security team hovers over me.

 

It doesn’t take long for Josh to come back to me and he thanks the men for watching over me before wrapping an arm around me and leading me out the back door.  I settle comfortably, albeit a little numb still, under his weight around my shoulders and let him lead me out.  We’re fairly quiet as we drive back to his house and once we’re through the gate and in the house he turns to me and presses his body to mine as he backs me up to the closed front door.  I stare up at him in wonder as he pants heavily, his bruised hand pushing the hair back from my face as his lower body pins me to the door. 

 

His voice is rough with emotion when he says, “I’m sorry.  I thought I’d be able to hold it together.  I just saw him standing there and the look in your eyes.  Fuck.”  He dips his head down and presses his nose to my hair behind my ear.  “I couldn’t deal, Stormy.”  He pulls back and shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

 

Understanding dawns as I realize he’s apologizing for his violent outburst on my behalf and I pull his head down to me, resting his forehead against mine and closing my eyes.  “Don’t be.  You were amazing.”

 

“I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.”

 

“Never.”  And my lips press to his, comforting and welcome.  I sigh against his parted lips and pull back.  “You’re not him.  I know that.  You would never hurt me.  Ever.”

 

Josh wraps both arms around me and holds me close, to steady himself as much as me. 

 

And I can’t help but admit that it feels so damn good to not be alone.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Josh

Saturday morning the weather seemed to match my mood and we all sat around in the living room as the rain beat down against the wall of windows. I loved this house because it was so open and no matter which room I went in I felt like I was outside in nature. Andre had a business proposal in the evening and I was trying to figure out how to break it to Stormy that I had a prior engagement I couldn’t get out of. 

An ex of mine was finally ready to meet up long enough to give all of my stuff back to me and although we had been broken up for nearly a year now one of my very favorite hoodies had been packed into a box with a bunch of random stuff and set aside in her closet for a long time. I wanted that hoodie back. I didn’t care so much about the friendship although that was more of a testament to my age and how many times I’d gotten fucked over by the fairer sex. 

Stormy was wearing one of Andre’s sweaters and she had her knees tucked up into it and her arms far inside the sleeves as she leaned against Driver on the couch. Both of them watched the TV with fascination, their heads tilted curiously to the side. I had a stack of ever growing scripts in front of me that I was attempting to read but then Stormy would giggle or move subtly and my attention would be thrown. I’d been sitting here in the same spot with the same script open on my lap to the same page I’d been trying to read for the last half an hour, just staring at her. 

During a commercial break Stormy leaned down and rubbed her cheek against Driver’s head and then laughed as he turned towards her and tried to nose his way into the sweater with her. He had a front paw tucked into the neck hole, stretching it down and out when Stormy collapsed backwards, freeing her hands enough to hug the dog to her, and wrestling him on the overstuffed couch.

I watched with a smile on my face as they settled back down when the show came back on. Jungle Cats on Discovery was quickly becoming their new favorite show. It helped that there was a marathon on today so they were in full couch potato mode. Andre came into the living room and sat on the arm of the   
couch, reaching for the remote and muting it. Stormy looked up at him and smiled, “What’s up?”

I was pretty sure I’d never get tired of her smile. I started thought when Andre said, “Adam’s in jail. He’s going to stay there until the hearing on Wednesday. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Stormy nodded and glanced away, off into the corner, her smile slipping from her lips as the reality of yesterday settled in. I flex the knuckles of my left hand where the skin was more than just a little bruised. There’s a gauze wrap around it right now, thanks to Stormy’s amateur first aid skills, but it still throbbed when I bent my fingers far enough. My right hand seemed to be in much better condition, bruised but with the skin intact. Nothing a couple of Tylenol couldn’t fix. 

Andre looks over at me and shrugs before making his way back to his room where we’ve set up the impromptu office that used to be in Stormy’s room.

“Do you think they’ll set bail at the hearing?”

I blink and bring Stormy into focus. Her whispered question in that tiny voice of hers makes me rub at a sore spot in the middle of my chest. “They’ll have to. He knowingly violated the restraining order the doctor filed and got into a violent altercation.” Stormy raises her eyebrows at me, clearly remembering that Adam never actually threw a punch. “He provoked me.” Her lips shift upwards at the corners and I say, “Well, he did.”

“I know. And thank you.” Her eyes dart back to the TV and she’s quiet for a long time.

I’ve just settled back down into reading through the script again when she says, “Can we go out tonight?”

I wince and fold the paper page back to keep my place. I guess now’s as good a time as any. “I actually can’t tonight. I have this thing.”

Stormy is sitting up with Driver half on her lap. “Oh.” Her eyes seem to study mine and she must see something there because her lips form a small “o” and she says, “Of course. I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow night then.”

I look away from her down at the dog and then sigh, “You know what? I don’t even want the stupid hoodie anymore. I can buy another one, right?”

Stormy seems confused at my small tirade but she agrees with me, “I guess so.” Then she turns thoughtful and says, “I’m not ruining a date am I? Because you’re an amazing guy, Josh. I don’t want to be the reason-“

“No. Not at all.” I shake my head and toss the script aside. “My ex, Tricia. We broke up last Christmas and she has this box of my stuff.”

“And your hoodie?”

I look up at the smile in her voice and her face is stretched in a wide grin. I roll my eyes and smile back at her, making a face. “Yes, and my hoodie.”

“I could tag along.”

“It’s just a sweatshirt. It’s no big deal.”

Stormy leans forward a little, eyes slanted as she studies me. “It’s not just a hoodie. It’s your hoodie. I say we get it back.” She lowers her feet to the ground and straightens out her posture, “You took care of my ex, I should repay the favor.”

“You’re not going to punch her in the face, are you?”

Stormy stands up and laughs, “Not unless she deserves it.”

I watch her walk to the kitchen, “Well, she did break my heart.” I say it loud enough for her to hear and she tosses me a smile over her shoulder. 

“I’m sure she did.” She gets a glass of water and then comes back to sit down across from me in her spot. “Why are you single, anyways?” I stare at her incredulously. I know she knows I’m attracted to her. I haven’t exactly hidden that from her. “Okay, I know you have this thing for me. And I’m flattered. But that isn’t the only reason you’re single.”

“Aside from the obvious, Andre says I’m too nice. I’m the classic good guy that every girl says she wants but when she gets she chooses the asshole instead.”

Stormy curls into herself and says quietly, “There’s no such thing as too nice.” She shakes herself out of wherever she’s gone to inside her head and adds, “I know what you’re saying, though. And I’m going to guess you’ve gotten fucked over enough times.”

“More than enough.” 

“How are you still a nice guy??”

“Priorities.” I say that under my breath as I stare across the room at her. My blood quickens and I can’t not inhale sharply at the way she licks her lips nervously. I know she heard me,

She must be reading my mind because she blurts out, “it isn’t going to happen, Josh.”

I smile and I can tell by the way her eyes widen that it’s probably more than a little predatory. “It is going to happen. Maybe not next week or even next month, but it will happen.”

Stormy is watching me carefully, “How do you know?” Her voice is little more than a whisper but I hear her and answer her. 

“Because you know a good thing when you see it. And storm, we’d be so good.”

My words are more bravado than anything else but that doesn’t change the fact that they strike some cord deep inside her. “Josh.”

I shake my head at her unspoken thoughts. “Don’t say anything. I’m a patient man, Stormy. I’ve waited this long. I’m not going anywhere.” The argument still hasn’t left her eyes but she seems to give it a rest, nodding in response instead. “So we’re meeting Trisha at Sushi Dan’s tonight.”

Stormy instantly smiles. “Sushi?”

Her excitement is catching and suddenly dinner doesn’t sound so bad.

Later that evening as Stormy comes into my room while I’m lacing up a pair of boots; I try to remind myself that this is a good idea. She’s practically vibrating with energy and I realize how hard this has probably been for her. She’s a people person and she seems to thrive off of human interaction even though she doesn’t like to be the center of attention. She’s been shut in the house for far too long and except for the few hours yesterday she is probably in need of being in a crowded room. She takes one look at my face and pulls up short, flinching.

“I can stay here.”

That sounds like the best plan yet but instead of agreeing I hear myself say, “Nope. Now you have to go. You’re my backup.”

Her smile slowly blooms and she throws herself across my bed as I tuck my necklace under my shirt. “You look very handsome tonight.”

I laugh as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I’m wearing jeans and a white V-neck. Stormy, on the other hand, looks hot as fuck and I say so in much more appropriate words, “Thank you. You look amazing. As always.” I hold a hand out for her and she gets up off of the bed, untucking the necklace from my shirt. 

Her fingers brush against the hair on my chest peeking over the material of the low collar and her eyes focus on my neck as I swallow. For a second I think she’s going to lean forward and place her lips against my Adam’s apple and then that moment passes and she takes a step back. 

She places her fingers to the small compass attached to the anchor necklace I wear. “I love this necklace.” I take it off from around my neck and put it over her head, her eyes have gone wide and unsure. It falls between her breasts to land just above her belly button on the outside of the fitted flannel she’s wearing with artfully ripped jeans and a pair of old converse. I make a face at her shoes and she laughs, playfully swatting at me. “I love these shoes.”

“You’re like the little girl that loved something so much she smothered it to death.”

She feigns hurt and ducks under the hand I try to grab her with, dancing out of my reach and laughing as she takes off down the hallway. I take my time catching up to her, smiling and shaking my head. 

In the restaurant she’s playing with the gold charm on the end of the chain around her neck. Her thumb rubs back and forth across the clear casing. “Where did you get this necklace, anyway?”  
I think back because it seems like someone gave it to me but I know that isn’t right. “I just saw it one day when I was shopping. I think it was at Urban Outfitter. I saw it hanging by the register and I have this thing for nautical themed anything. I grabbed it without thinking and I’ve been wearing it ever since.” 

She smiles down as she turns her body in the direction of North, towards the extra bank of tables from our position at the bar. She’s looking away when she says, “I like the idea of having a compass around your neck. You’ll always be able to find your way home.”

I stare at her and jump when a hand slides across the back of my shoulders and down my arm. “Josh.”

Stormy raises her eyes to the brunette that sit down on my other side, letting go of the necklace that hangs down. 

“Trisha. This is Stormy.” Stormy smiles and holds out a hand, politeness practically oozing out of her pores.

“It’s nice to meet you, Trisha.” 

My ex looks down at Stormy’s offered hand and then says harshly to me, “You brought your girlfriend with you? Are you serious, Josh?”

I look over at Stormy from the corner of my eyes and she leans into me, placing her hand she had held out down on my thigh, resting it there. “He really just wants his hoodie.” Stormy spots the large Aeropostale bag in Trisha’s hand and her face lights up. “Ooh, is that it?” Before Trisha knows what’s going on Stormy has the bag in her own lap and she’s rifling through it, making silly faces at some of the stuff in it. “Oh, cool.” She grabs a leather bracelet from the stuff near the bottom of the stack and holds it up to the light. It’s a bracelet Trisha had bought me while we were on set in Hawaii shooting Catching Fire. Stormy puts it around her wrist and fastens it, smiling innocently as she shows me the stamped leather. “It’s so pretty.”

I’m glad she thinks so because I hated that damn thing. That’s probably the reason I left it at her place. 

“I gave that to Josh.”

Stormy blinks her wide blue eyes at my ex and then says innocently, “Oh. Then it’s Josh’s and what’s his is mine, so.” On that last word she twirls the compass necklace around on her finger, drawing Trisha’s attention there. Her whole body goes still and then she snatches up her purse quickly and in very precise movements she flings her hair over her shoulder.

“Goodbye, Josh.” Her voice is clipped as she turns on her heels and click-clack’s out of the restaurant.

I bow my head until I can’t hold my laughter in any longer and I let it all out, pressing my fingers into my eyes. Stormy unsnaps the bracelet and tosses it back into the bag as she makes a face. “That thing was ugly as fuck. You probably left it at her place on purpose.” She smiles at the waitress who stops and asks us for our drink and food order. 

It’s when the sushi is half gone off the plate sitting between us that she finally taps her chopsticks on the side of the plate and says, “If Adam is denied bail at the hearing I’m going to move out.” I look up at her sharply, setting my own chopsticks down as my hands start to shake. I place them on top of each other in my lap so she doesn’t see. “I appreciate everything you and Andre have done but I can’t live with you forever.”

“It’s been a week. That’s not forever, Storm. And we love having you around.”

“As much as I like hanging out, I just need to get back to my own life. My own place.”

I think back to the day she was released to the hospital. I remember in explicit detail the way her body folded in on itself when she had to face her apartment. I never want her to go through that again and I definitely don’t want her to go through it alone.

“One more week.” My voice is on the edge of begging and I clear my throat thoroughly. Stormy is studying the wood top of the bar we’re sitting at. “Stormy?”

She looks up at me and then back down quickly but not before I see the sheen of tears in her eyes. I put an arm around her and tuck her into my side. She turns her face into my shirt and whispers, “I need to go back there. I can’t let him have that power over me.”

I sigh and close my eyes, resting my cheek against her head, “I know.” I hold her close and wonder at her strength, prepared to lend her some of mine if that’s what she needs. 

Sunday I wake up to Andre beating his fist on my bedroom door. “What?” I yell from under my blanket, my eyes still closed and prepared to stay that way. 

“Stormy’s gone.” He announces this as he swings my door open. “I’ve checked everywhere. This house isn’t that big. She’s just gone.”

I rub my face with my hands and struggle to sit up. “Maybe she met up with Suzanne somewhere.”

Andre shakes his head, “No. She still hasn’t heard back from her.”

I run my hands through my hair and clear my sleepy head to think. It hits me like a freight train. “Oh, shit.” I scramble out of bed and scoop up the clothes laying on my floor from yesterday. I’m rapidly putting on my jeans and then shoving my feet into a pair of slip on vans, rushing for the door. “I know where she went. I’ll call you if I don’t find her.”

And then I’m out the door, keys in hand as I jump into my jeep. Andre had taken her to pick up her car after that doctor’s appointment last week and it was missing from the driveway. I attempt to steady my breathing as I wind through the streets of the Hills and make my way towards Studio City. Once I arrive at her building I spot her car and pull up behind it. I check to make sure she’s not in it and when I find it empty I turn towards her stairs and race up them to the door. 

It’s not even latched and I push it open with the flat of my hand, preparing myself for what I’m about to walk in on.

It’s so much worse than that, though. Stormy is sitting in the middle of her bed, a pair of shears in her hand, ripping through the down comforter in her lap. She stabs the fluffy material repeatedly, raging animal noises ripping from her throat. I stand back and let her destroy the harmless linen, hoping it’s therapeutic in its destruction. 

When she seems to have calmed some I finally move into the bedroom, saying her name softly so as to not startle her. She doesn’t even look at me, continuing to stare down at the poly fill mess littering her bed. I climb up onto the queen mattress and slide my body behind hers, carefully putting my arms around her and pulling her back to rest her weight on me. She collapses backwards, sobs shaking loose from deep in her chest. She hangs limply in my arms, relying on me to keep her upright, as she deflates before my very eyes. Her anger dissipating until the only thing left of her is a boneless, liquid mass. 

I sit with her until she stops shaking. Her breathing levels out and her hands that once hung limp at her sides, raised to lace her fingers with mine over her stomach. “That night you kisses me in the parking lot?” I nod, my head beside hers, as I remember that amazing moment in time when she had kissed me back. “That night was the night it happened.” I tighten my arms around her in reflex and press my lips to her hair so I’m not tempted to apologize. I know what she needs right now is to talk, no matter how painful it is for me to listen. “He hit me first. I was stunned. He had never done anything like that before.” She raises her shoulder to wipe her wet cheek on the material of her sweatshirt that I just now realize is my hoodie. The fact that she’s wearing it makes me puff my chest out a little. She had dressed for comfort in yoga pants and my hoodie, her hair pulled back in a twisted ponytail that she’s mastered nearly one handed. I tighten my hands on hers to show I’m still listening. 

“He hit me and then he threatened me with the tape. And you. I would have left. I didn’t care as much about my career as I cared about yours. I couldn’t stand the thought of being to blame for ruining your life.” She turns her head and rests against my chest, shifting her lower half as well. “I still can’t, Josh. I don’t want to be your downfall. I refuse.”

“Shh, no, nothing is going to happen to me. What could he do to me, anyways? He was just using me to scare you. I’m fine. I promise.”

She breathes heavily against my shirt and blurts out, “I pretended he was you.”

My body shuts down for second, even my heart takes a time out for a few beats. I wait to hear her explanation because I’m not sure what she’s referring to and my stomach is twisted in knots at the thought that it was my fists she saw as he beat her. 

“In bed that night. I couldn’t stop him. Nothing I said could have made him stop. I decided to lay here,” her hand brushes along the top of the mattress, “I just laid here and let him rape me.” Her voice hitched on the word rape and then she drops an even bigger bomb on me, “Towards the end, I just closed my eyes and pretended he was you. I imagined what it would be like if it were you inside of me, making love to me slowly and sweetly, instead of him angry and demeaning.” 

She sucks in a breath as if she can’t quite believe she told me that and I say close to her ear, “I’m glad I could help you through that, Stormy. I’m honored that it was me that helped you escape even if for just a moment.”

She turns abruptly, her eyes searching mine to make sure what I said is the truth, and then she moves her whole body to face me, pulling her hands from mine. “Thank you, Josh.” She places her shaking hands against my cheeks and presses her lips to mine in gratitude. Her eyes are closed as she leans her forehead to mine. “Thank you for being you.”

I gather her close and lay down with her, kicking the murdered quilt from the bed. I hold her while we are both silent and it’s not long before exhaustion weighs her down and she sleeps. My phone vibrates in my pocket but I’m not willing to loosen my hold on her to answer it. Instead I close my eyes and let her even breathing draw me into sleep.

Stormy

Wednesday I woke up in Josh’s bed. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his pillows and soft sheets but he had left for New York on Monday afternoon and wasn’t due back until this morning. I reach over to the other side of the bed and grab a fluffy pillow, bringing it to my face and holding it there, not tight enough to suffocate but with enough pressure to close out the light that’s streaming in through the window. 

Josh’s absence had been a good thing in a way. On Monday I had gone with Andre to drop Josh off at the airport. I had wrapped my arms around him to say goodbye and he had looked down at me, his lips a breath away from mine, and I had had an insightful flash as to what it would be like to belong to Josh and get a goodbye kiss from him. Even now I had to clench my thighs together to relieve the pressure that tingled inside at the thought. Instead he had smile and hugged me back and then let me go just as quickly to make his flight.

That night I had sat down in the silence of my bedroom and decided to write. And I did, surprising myself. It proved to be a distraction and escape and I had welcomed it. By early Tuesday morning I had written five chapters and my hands were sore, especially my left, from the workout they had gotten. I had fallen asleep in my own bed to the sound of Andre moving around the living room.

Tuesday had been a blur. Josh had called to ask me if I’d watched the morning show to which I was ashamed to say I hadn’t. Josh’s laughing voice had reassured me that Andre had most likely dvr’ed it anyways and that if I wanted to I could watch it later. We stayed on the phone for hours. Josh had finally said he was going to dinner with some friends on the east coast but that he planned on watching Conan later that night if I wanted to watch it with him. I had told him I’d be more than happy.

Last night I had laid in Josh’s bed, curled up in his pillows as Conan talked through a monologue and Josh laughed out loud to it on speaker phone. We chatted easily throughout the show and when it was over we watched reruns of The Office and laughed at Dwight and Jim’s pranks. Even with the time change I fell asleep before him and I woke up not long after to Josh calling my name and telling me goodnight. I had replied in kind and shut off my phone, pulled the covers over my head, and fell asleep surrounded by his smell, my hand clutched around the anchor I had yet to take off.

Waking up in Josh’s bed this morning wasn’t a surprise as much as it was a welcome experience. I was glad he was coming back today. While my days had been productive I still missed his presence. It was an awful and selfish thought that I had while I showered in his bathroom that I didn’t really want to move out. I wanted to stay in the cocoon Andre and he had made for me and never have to worry about myself again because they did so much of it for me.

Andre’s knock brought me out of my reverie and I called out to him to hold on a minute. He popped the door open with his eyes closed tight, causing me to laugh out loud. “You have ten minutes and then we need to head out.”

“Okay, give me a minute to rinse off.”

Andre closes the door and I hear him say, “Nice rack!” from somewhere in the bedroom.

“An-dre!” I playfully scold him and finish showering. I’m dried off and dressed in minutes, a pair of jeans and one of Josh’s flannels keeping me warm. My hair is tucked up in a ponytail under his Reds hat that we had rescued from my place on Sunday. The holes in my Converse let the cold air in and I shiver as I run out the front door and meet Andre at the car. Driver looks out at us from the living room window like he knows we’re bringing Josh home with us.

When we get to LAX we’re running late so Andre lets me out while he waits in the long line of cars dropping off and picking up. I push through the doors and stop at the flap display to find out that Josh’s flight has just arrived. I decide to wait at the luggage return and have just spotted his duffel bag when I hear him behind me. “You’re wearing my hat.”

I turn towards him and laugh at the fact that he’s wearing mine. He gets a better look at me and says, “And my flannel. Do I have any clothes left?” He grins and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him. He flips his hat backwards and slants his head, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. My hands have tightened on the sleeves of his sweatshirt and I pull at the material, inviting him back for another kiss. His eyes search mine for permission and I lean up to capture his lips with mine. His arms tighten and his tongue pushes past my lips to mate with mine. He tastes minty and warm and like sleepy mornings. I gasp as he breathes my name and then return his kiss with fervor. 

The sound of applause encompasses us and we break apart to find that we’ve drawn a crowd. I smile and duck my face down, thankful for the cap that covers my face. Josh laughs and grabs his duffel with one hand and puts an arm around me, leading me out of the airport to where Andre waits.

When we get home Josh takes Driver outside and plays with him. Andre looks me over and makes a satisfied sound in his throat.

“What?”

He smiles and shrugs, ”Nothing.”

I toss a pillow off the couch at him. “Tell me.”

He catches it and throws it back on the sofa, “You’re glowing. I don’t know what is going on between you two but I approve.”

I roll my eyes and reach into my pocket when my phone rings. “Nothing is going on.” Andre looks like he’s about to call me out on my bullshit but I slide my thumb across the screen of my iPhone and answer it. “Hello?”

“Miss Seasons? This is Mr. Davis.”

“Oh.” I move around the living room and collapse onto the couch.

“I wanted to be the first to tell you that the hearing went as well as can be expected. Due to his violation of the restraining order he’s being held without bond. A trial date has been set for December 13th. We have enough evidence that we won’t need you as a witness. Unless you’d like to be there, of course.”

“Okay. Uh-thank you.”

“Any time, Miss Seasons. Have a good day.”

I hang up and look up at Andre who is standing over me. “He was denied bail and the court date is December 13th.”

“Are you going to have to take the stand?” Josh’s voice comes from behind me and I don’t turn around, just shake my head instead. 

“No. They have enough evidence.” I think back to the pictures the police took of the destruction to Adam’s apartment and the ruin of my face and arm, the prints bruising my skin, the redness around my neck and the rainbow of colors across my stomach. I remember declining when they offered to show me the proof. And I remember Josh moving into the hallway with an officer to look over it all.

His hand falls gently to my shoulder as he moves to stand behind me. “Are you staying in town for it?”

I shake my head quickly. “I think I’ll go to my parents. I don’t really want to stay here.”

He comes around the couch and sits down next to me, grabbing one of my hands with his. “Okay. Just let me know when you want to leave so I can clear my schedule although December is pretty slow.”

I look up at him in shock, “You don’t have to do that.”

He smiles and nods, “I know. But I want to.”

Who am I to argue with that kind of logic? The thought of Josh meeting my parents makes me want to stick my head into the freezer and scream until my vocal cords snap. It also gives me a contradictory rush of warmth that heats me up from the inside. I’m not sure what any of it means so I just let it be. 

Later we take Driver to the dog park and I watch as he plays with everyone, always returning to us. Josh and I sit on a bench and he is occasionally approached to sign an autograph or have a picture taken. I gladly play photographer when it’s requested. Afterwards we get in the Jeep and Josh starts driving. I look over at him curiously and when he turns onto the freeway instead of the residential street home I don’t question it.   
We listen to music on the way to our unknown destination, Driver’s head lolls around between us from the back seat as he pants heavily, enjoying being on the road. We drive past multiple exits and then we hit the Pacific Coast Highway. Josh laughs like he’s leaving all of his worries behind, finally free and home. He turns the music up and I pull my feet up onto the seat, tucking them under me. We drive along the coastline singing along to the classic rock station.

Nearly an hour later Josh pulls over to a small clearing and parks the Jeep. I look out at the waves rolling in and take a deep breath, enjoying the refreshing smell and sound of the ocean. He’s driven us all the way out to Point Dume and I smile over at him just as he grins at me. “Come on.”

He hops out of the Jeep and clips the leash to Driver’s collar, leading him along as I follow behind. We make our way down to the shore and I stand still for a moment, my eyes closed and my body letting go of any residual tension for the day. “Sometimes when I’ve had enough and I don’t think I can take anymore I come out here. On weekdays it’s pretty empty.” We look around and spot a couple far off down the beach. “I drive all the way out here and I play with Driver or I come here alone and just yell it out.” I look over at his words. “You’ve been cooped up in the house too long. Driver and I are going to head down to the other end. When you’re ready I want you to just scream at the top of your lungs. No one will hear and no one will judge you.”

He leans down and rubs his lips across mine, my breath stuttering to a halt and I wonder if I will always feel like I’m free-falling every time he does that. Then he kisses me briefly before he turns and heads away from me. I watch after them for a while and as they get smaller and smaller I can feel the pain charge at me. I step carefully until I’m standing a few feet from the waterline and I don’t bother to look around. I clench my fists by my sides, pull the air up from my diaphragm, lean my head back and let it go. I scream long and loud and I’m sure my face is red and the tears that fall are from relief more than pain. I let go everything that has been trapped inside of me for the last few weeks, not caring anymore whose around to witness it. I take a deep breath and release it again, screaming out once more, my cries growing weaker and hoarser.

Finally I’m just breathing heavily, my throat throbs and I don’t care because I feel lighter. 

I laugh as I throw my hand up in the air, my left hand releasing the fist it’s made down by my side. I twirl around, not caring that I’m kicking water up with my shoes and the ends of my jeans are getting soaked. I take a deep breath and turn towards where Josh headed to. I sprint down the beach, giggling freely. I’m still giddy and smiling when I reach him. He’s watching Driver play in the waves from where he sits on the soft sand. I fall to my knees beside him. “Thank you.”

My voice scratches out the words and Josh plays with the necklace still hanging down the front of my shirt. “I’m glad it helped.”

Using my good hand I push him back until he’s flat on the sand and I move one knee over until I’m straddling him. I push my hair back as I lean down over him, my lips hovering above his. “It helped.” Then I drop down and press myself fully against him. Josh groans as he tilts his head, his lips lining up to mine, coercing them open. His tongue glides across mine and I grind down, our lower halves bumping against each other. Josh’s hand catches me at the waist and he stills my movements. 

“No.”

I open my eyes at his weak protest. “What?” My voice is incredulous. My whole body is vibrating with need and all I want to do at that very moment is soak him in.

“Stormy, we can’t do this.”

I lick my lips, a mixture of salt from the air and sweetness that was pure Josh. I stare down at him, my eyes searching his hazel ones. Finally he sighs and says, “When I’m finally inside of you, you’re going to be mine. I don’t want a quick fuck. I want it all.”

My breath freezes inside of me, my eyes widening as I process what he’s saying. “I can’t.”

Josh smiles softly, nodding. “I know. That’s why we aren’t going to do this.”

The ride home is quiet. Not embarrassing because neither of us have taken it personally. Driver is sleeping in the back seat, exhaustion making his body limp as he snores softly. Josh reaches over the console and he takes my left hand carefully in his. His fingers move between mine to create a better grasp and he holds it the whole way back.

I like it too much to let go of him. His hand warms mine just like his kisses do. I wonder what being with him would be like. Not just sexually but belonging to him in all aspects. I want that, desperately. I know Josh would never mistreat me but I can’t bring myself to say the words that will let him in. Instead I tighten my hold on his hand and hope that he doesn’t change his mind by the time I am ready.


	12. Chapter 12

Stormy

Thursday I spent the day writing. Something had happened to me after our time at the beach. Something within me had broken open and it all poured out of me into a word document. I started off in my room, propped up on my pillows as I typed away. At some point Josh interrupted me and I stared at him with tunnel vision as if he were at the end of a very long hall and I wasn’t particularly interested in making the trip to him. My eyes had returned to the screen in front of me and I had continued on with my story. A plate of fruit had been set down beside me by transparent hands and I had consumed the entire mound of food without thought.

After Andre yelling out to the house, “The guys are coming over!” I had moved farther away from the living room to Josh’s bedroom. He had this ever constant stack of pillows on the floor near the floor to ceiling curtains, hidden on the other side of his bed. I laid down on my stomach and propped my laptop up and kept writing. Andre had come in at some time and put a bottle of water down beside me which I vaguely remembered thanking him for along with a bowl of chips.

Josh had come into his bedroom, talking on his phone loudly and I had finally spoken, or hissed rather, for the first time that day. “Ssssshhhhh!” He had looked over at me, surprised and then put his free hand up in the air as if surrendering and slowly backed out of the room.

Avan and his girlfriend ducked their heads into the room to say hi and I help up a hand, waving at them, and then went back to ignoring the world.

It wasn’t until Josh came to bed that he pulled up short. “I thought you had already gone back to your room.”

“No.” My fingers continued to move restlessly over the keys.

“It’s almost midnight, Stormy. I think it’s probably time to break and start fresh tomorrow.”

“In a minute.” The world I had created absorbed me and I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. 

Josh turned on the TV earning a dark look from me and his response was, “Shut the fucking laptop down and get in bed.” When I just blinked at him he pointed to the bed with the blanket pulled back and said, “Now, Stormy!”

I start at his firm demand. I save my document, create a backup, and then I power it down. I shut my laptop and put it on his dresser. Josh strips his shirt off and shimmies out of his jeans. I stare across the wide expanse of mattress at him. Josh raises his eyebrows at me expectantly and nods towards my clothes still on my body. I carefully extract myself from my Henley and push my jeans down my hips. I stand before him in a camisole and a pair of plain cotton boy short panties. The way his eyes darken you’d think I was wearing something Victoria’s Secret worthy.

I climb beneath the blanket and pull the sheets up around me as Josh does the same. We’re on our separate sides of the bed and I’m staring up at the ceiling above us, out of the skylight. Josh’s hand grabs at the side of my tank top and tugs me towards him. I scoot over willingly until I’m right up against him. His arm wraps around me and his fingers play with the scalloped edge of my panties right above my ass. 

I swallow tightly, praying silently that he’ll finish what I started yesterday. I know he won’t, but I can hope. Instead I huff out a breath and say, “How was your day, honey?”

Josh laughs and dips his fingers beneath the waistband, playing with the top of my cheek. He strokes the skin back and forth and says, “It was nice. It was fun hanging out with the guys but I wish you would have been more social.” I start to pull away from him to roll back over to my side of the bed. I didn’t sign up for the reprimand that I feel coming on. “Hey.” He rolls me back over and drags my body over top of his so we’re face to face, chest to breasts, legs opening to allow room for the other’s. “That wasn’t a dig. I know you were writing. I made sure you were fed and watered and I kept Driver out of your way.”

“How very supportive of you.” It comes out as a snarl and I’m not sure where the attitude has popped up from and I know he doesn’t deserve it but I am almost too ashamed to take it back. His eyes narrow up at me and then in a swift move I’m not anticipating he flips me over so I’m pinned beneath him. I stare up at him now, dumbfounded. His upper body isn’t touching mine at all, his arms holding himself up so I don’t feel overwhelmed or trapped. That alone makes me cry and as the tears slip down I wrap my arm around his neck and pull the rest of his weight down on top of me, letting it comfort and reassure me. I whisper next to his ear, “Don’t be gentle with me.”

Josh takes this to heart and he turns his lips to mine, taking them, claiming my mouth with his. He surrounds me suddenly and I have a moment of panic when I feel him harden against my thigh. It passes as soon as his arm hooks under my knee and pulls it up so I’m wide open to him. His tongue mates with mine as he rubs his still enclosed cock against my center. I break my mouth from his to direct him to go faster and it unleashes something primal inside of him. One arm is hooked under my leg while the other swiftly moves down my body to my underwear. His fingers dip beneath the material, not bothering to play at the edges, and then he is touching my bare skin. His mouth lowers to my neck and he alternately sucks and bites at the skin there, his breathing causing goose bumps to rise and fall on my skin. 

My left hand is useless, splayed out on the bed beside me, but my right is caught in his hair, pulling roughly as his fingers spread my folds apart and he nudges against my clit with his knuckle. My hips raise up to him on their own and I cry out, desperately wanting him inside me. He rewards me with a finger that sinks deep into me. I lean my head back and say his name, chanting the lonely syllable over and over again. A second finger joins the first and he touches something inside of me, plunging deep and twisting to the side repeatedly. My hand moves down between us and I roughly shove his boxers down, grasping him in my fist. His movements pause for a split second and then pick back up. 

When he realizes I’m matching my speed to his he picks up the pace and finger fucks me. He is relentless in his pursuit and the soft skin gliding over the impossibly hard shaft of his cock drives me wild. I move my hand off of him long enough to lick my palm, hear his heartfelt groan as he watches my tongue spread saliva across my hand, and then return to the process of jerking him off. My movements are slicker now and Josh pumps himself into my fist, setting his own tempo just as I gasp at a sensitive spot he’s found deep inside of me. He notices my reaction and reaches for it again, bumping that invisible button repeatedly with scary accuracy. My toes curl, my feet arch, my calves tighten, my thighs quake, my hips buck up and my grip on him tightens on an upward stroke as I come. 

I call his name out as I shake against him, my hand working at his cock until his face drops to mine and his tongue explores my mouth roughly. He groans and I feel him expand and then explode. He stills against me, his fingers slowing to a pause and he presses his cock to the seam of my underwear, coming in long thick streams across my stomach. I press the head of his cock gently to the cotton covering my clit and we both moan, his lips pulling away from mine. “Do that again.”

His whispered words make me shiver in delight and I rub him against the soft material, the bud of my clit eagerly awaiting the touch. His fingers are still inside me, not moving, just resting there. I slide him back and forth, slowly at first, and then faster as my need grows. I’m almost there when he begins to moan and move his hips, his cock still hard even after his release. He removes his fingers from me and pulls the edge of my panties down my hips urgently. Once he has them down far enough he rests his engorged shaft against my lips and thrusts, the very tip of him nudging against my clit, the velvety soft head of his dick massaging me in time to his grunts. 

I stare up at him in wonder as another orgasm strikes me from nowhere. His fingers plunge back into me, creating a filling effect and I say his name on a moan, writhing around under him. Josh throws his head back as my muscles clamp down around his fingers and my hand drops lower to fondle his balls. I cup them close to his cock and feel them tighten in response as he comes a second time. He shouts my name with a few expletives and then he truly collapses all of his weight on top of me, his body shaking with his orgasm. I wiggle my hand out from between us and he does the same, not even bothering to move off of me. I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, his cock aligned with the crease of my hip, resting softly in repose. 

His breathing is heavy and labored as he says, “I’ll move in a minute. Promise.”

His stomach tightens against mine with every inhale and exhale and reminds me of the sticky fluid that presses between our skin. “You don’t have to. But you probably should.” 

Josh looks at me, confused for a minute and then it seems to occur to him that we’re both now covered in his semen. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I should have cleaned you up…”

I laugh at the absurdity of that and lean up to kiss his lips. “It’s nothing a little soap and water won’t clean up.” I turn my face to his hand that is messy with my juices. “Looks like you’ve got a little of me on you, too.”

He barks out a laugh as he buries his face in the pillow beside my head. He turns his face and I turn mine and our lips press together. Josh breathes and I feel it flutter across my cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

I stare at him for a moment and then shake my head, “I’m just regular, Josh.”

Josh grins and strokes my hair away from my face, his naked body still pressed to mine, “Regular is something you will never be. Believe me.”

He gets up after one last kiss and pushes his boxers all the way down, stepping out of them as he heads to the bathroom. I bite my lip on a groan while the muscles in his bare ass flex with each step. I’m immediately turned on again. I’m also aware that we most likely won’t have a repeat of tonight so I savor the moment he comes back to clean me off after he’s already taken care of himself. Afterwards he pulls on pajama pants and tosses me a pair of his mesh shorts. I shimmy into them beneath the covers and then straighten my camisole. I move over and he climbs into bed before he pulls me almost on top of him again. 

I lick my lips as we both stare up at the stars above us shining down from the skylight. “This was it.”

Josh nods, “Yeah.”

My breath shakes as I release it on a sigh. “There’s no one in the world that makes me feel like you do.” I hope that’s enough of an admission for him. I want him to know that I don’t regret what we’ve done, I just regret that I’m not as ready as he is for more to happen.

Josh tightens his arms around me and says nothing until I’m almost asleep. I think I hear him whisper into the darkness of the room that he loves me. But that’s impossible. Because not even I love me. So how could someone as amazing as him feel that way?

Friday morning I navigated my way around the laundry room. Josh was still sleeping soundly and I could hear Andre moving around the kitchen so I poked my head out of the smaller room and said, “I’m doing a few loads so if you have anything you need washed…”

Andre stared at me speechless. “You’re doing laundry?”

I look around the kitchen and then nod, “Uh, yeah.”

He sets his mug down sharply and practically flees the kitchen. He returns just moments later with a hamper full of clothes. “Can you do mine?”  
Josh chooses that moment to enter the room and he looks between us and then his eyes fall to the basket Andre is hurriedly shoving at me. Josh sucks in a breath and his whole face lights up. “Are you doing laundry?”

I see the panic-stricken look on Andre’s face as he shakes his head. “Say no,” he hisses at me and my mouth flounders, looking for a response. 

Josh narrows his eyes at us and makes a disgusted sound. “I can’t believe you, Andre.”

He whips around to look at Josh, “Me? What about you?”

Josh looks affronted as he plasters a palm to his own chest, “Me? What did I do?”

Andre opens his mouth to retort and I put a halt to it. “Oh my god. Just stop already. I’m not going anywhere today. I’m just going to hang out around the house and do laundry. If you have some shit that needs done, bring it in here so I can sort it. That’s all.”

Josh smiles as Andre leaves the kitchen. Andre says back to us, “Just remember that I gave you mine first.”

I roll my eyes at their immature behavior and start a load. I look up as Josh brings a mesh bag overflowing with clothes into the small enclosure.

“Woah.” I watch as he starts pulling clothes out left and right attempting to sort them himself. “How long has it been since you did laundry?”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “A month, I guess?”

My eyes widen as I watch him fling dirty clothes into different piles. He tosses an obnoxious red shirt in a pile, a very large pile, of white ones. I reach over and grab it. “Why’d you put this in the white pile?”

“White pile?” He looks at the stack of v-necks. “Oh. I thought that was the tee shirt pile.”

I jerk my head to look up at him. “Wait.” I try to come to terms with what I’ve just figured out. “Do you not know how to do laundry?”

“I know how to do laundry.”

Andre’s voice from the living room says, “No, he doesn’t.”

I look at Josh and wait patiently as an embarrassed flush climbs his neck to his cheeks. “I know how laundry is done. I’ve just never done it myself.”

I’m mouthing the words after him because I can’t quite wrap my mind around a 21 year old not ever having done laundry. I straighten my spine as I watch him stare at the red shirt, curiously, not sure where to put it. I point to a basket containing only dark clothes and he wads it up and tosses it, putting his arms up in victory when he makes it in even though he’s standing right beside it. 

I raise a brow at him and say, “Pay attention. You’re about to get a crash course.”

A few hours later I was proud of the dwindling mounds of dirty clothes and thankful that the boys knew how to put them away. Josh got excited every time the dryer buzzed. He liked folding. I just sat back and instructed when he’d get something wrong. He had been especially interested when I filled the bathroom sink with water and a small dollop of detergent and hand washed my intimates. “Can I do that for you?”

I elbowed him to scoot back and laughed at the eager look on his face. “No, perv. Worry about your own clothes.” 

Friday night after a surprisingly productive day I found my way to my own bed and laid there with Driver taking up half the blanket. I was just dozing off when I heard a knock on my door. Josh peeked his head in and his eyes dropped to mine where I was cuddled close to his dog. “You’re staying in here tonight?”

I blink slowly. “This is my room.”

Josh nudges the door open further and leans against the door jamb. “But I like sleeping with you beside me.”

I sigh and roll out of bed, my head fuzzy from my half asleep state. I scoot my feet across the hardwood floor and Josh moves aside as I pass him, turning down the hall towards his room. I collapse into his bed and settle in and before he can even climb in beside me I’m asleep.

Josh

I stare down at the bed where Stormy is currently snoring into my pillow. I tilt my head to the side and reach out with a hand to move her hair from her face. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. The fact that she doesn’t think so destroys some small part of me. 

I slide between the sheets and maneuver her until her back is pressed against my front. My knees fit into the crease of hers that are bent and I can feel the rise and fall of her breath from her back pressed to my chest.

I wrap an arm around her, bury my face into her sunny blond hair that shines blue in the moonlight, and I close my eyes tight. 

This is what I want to do every night for the rest of my life. And she is who I want to do it with.

Saturday and Sunday passed by quickly. My weekend was filled with meetings and I wanted to cry that it was unfair that Andre got to spend both days with Stormy. Saturday he had taken her to the Getty Center and they had come back home bursting with chatter. They had gone into detail over which displays they liked the best. Stormy had enjoyed the tram ride more than she thought she would and Andre had gone on and on about the architecture.

Sunday they took Driver to the dog park and Stormy had come home laughing with pieces of shrubbery stuck in her hair and to her clothes. She pulled up short when she saw me sitting at the kitchen island with my agent. Marty had stared at her and grinned and I had punched him solidly on his arm. She mouthed an apology as she walked past us to grab a bottle of water and on her return trip I had hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back to me. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine and I had taken advantage and pressed my lips to hers. 

Afterwards she had blinked slowly as if trying to figure me out and then she had returned the quick kiss and left the kitchen to go sit in the living room with Andre as they planned the rest of their day.

They came back from lunch very serious and Stormy had walked past me without dropping a look my way. She had gone straight for the bathroom and stayed there for almost half an hour. Andre sat beside me, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his open palms. “Someone stopped her and asked for her autograph.” I nodded for him to go on and he said, “They didn’t want her to sign a book. They handed her a DVD.”

My mouth falls open and I don’t know how to respond. We sit there in silence until the toilet flushes repeatedly and the bathroom door opens. I listen carefully to Stormy leave the bathroom and her bedroom door opening and shutting with a soft click behind her. Driver looks between me and Andre as if asking us which one of us was going to go after her.

I got up and went to her door, knocking before I pushed the door open without invitation. Stormy sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around her body hugging herself tightly. Her eyes are rimmed with red and she’s staring at the dresser top where a small medicine bottle rests. I pick it up and flip it over to read the label. The grin that I flash at her is purely genuine. “Are you serious?”

She licks her lips and stares at the bottle in my hand. 

I toss it back and forth in the air. “This is prescribed, Stormy. For,” I read the label again, “anxiety?”  
She jerks her head in a nod and that’s when I realize how her legs are shaking as they hang over the edge of the mattress. I look closer and I notice how her knuckles have turns white as she tries to contain the pain. I hold up a hand and race down the hall to my room where I fling open my sock drawer and stick my hand in, searching for the glass bowl I have stashed near the back.

My fingers wrap around it and on my way back to Stormy’s room I call out to Andre, “Toke time!”

Andre peeks his head around the corner and I hold up the bowl. I see his duck back into the living room and then moments later I hear him in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. I squeeze into Stormy’s room and nudge Driver aside saying, “None for you, boy.”

Stormy is still on the edge of the bed only now her nails have begun to dig into the skin of her arms where they are holding on tight. I can see the panic in the dilation of her eyes and I unscrew the cap of the vial of weed. I pluck out a sticky green bud with fine purple hairs woven through it and pack it into the bowl. I press it down tightly with my thumb and the lick my digit, the flavor of rosemary and ganja bursting across my tongue. I make a sound of appreciation and then I grab the lighter I stuffed into my back pocket. I flick it and press the flame to the head. I take a few short puffs to get it started, relishing in the clean high that hits the back of my throat first. I move to crouch in front of Stormy and I press the bowl into her hand. When she releases her hand from around her bicep it’s shaking so bad I’m not sure she’ll be able to hold the bowl steady enough. I grab her hand with mine and hold it tight while I press the mouth piece up to her lips for her. My thumb closes over the release in the side and she takes a deep breath and I move my thumb away. 

The nugget burns bright and then she pulls her head back and closes her eyes as the smoke she’s just inhaled stays trapped in her lungs and infiltrates every spot inside her body. Her muscles relax one by one until her shoulders slump back and she releases the smoke in a thin stream, turning her head so it doesn’t go in my face. 

Andre scoots into the room, arms laden with bags of chips and bottles of soda as well as a towel. He tosses all of the snacks on the bed and then lays the towel down across the bottom of the door. We know from experience that Driver will lay right up against the crack while we’re getting high and later he will reek of weed smoke earning him a bath that none of us happily volunteer for.

Stormy takes the bowl from me and hits it a few more times before passing it up to Andre. She slowly lays back on the bed, her movements in slow motion as she rubs her palms against her thighs. Andre looks at me wide eyed after his first hit “Woah, what the fuck it this?”

“Pink Lady.” Stormy whispers the name from her prone position on the bed. Andre sighs long and low and scoots the snacks off the comforter into the floor and then takes their place, laying down on his back beside Stormy. I take a few really good hits and come around to the other end of the bed. I sit back and hand the bowl down to Stormy. She smiles up at me and then sits up, Andre’s hand and mine both immediately reach behind her to support her back, propping her upright, as she finishes off the bowl. She hands it back to me and I reach into the nightstand beside the bed, extracting the ashtray we keep here for guests since both my aunt and mom smoke. I tap the small leftover embers out and rest the glass apparatus on the edge of the ashtray. After that’s taken care of I lean back and am instantly surrounded by Stormy’s smell and warmth and the pillows and blankets that puff up around me. 

We’re all very quiet for a long time and then Andre can’t deal anymore and he starts to giggle. It’s a chain reaction and soon Stormy and I are also laughing, all three of us staring up at the silk scarves above the bed.

I turn to face Stormy, a question in my mind that I want to ask but she turns her face towards me at the same time and I get caught in her eyes. They are a sparkling blue that have just started to regain their luster. Her eyelashes are a brown at the root that taper to a fine honey color that matches the smattering of freckles across her nose and the tops of her cheeks. Her eyelids are curved and the skin is so fine and soft and a light shade of the palest pink. There are small creases on the outer corners of each of her eyes and they fan outward as she smiles over at me. 

I’m unable to stop myself as I lean forward and press my lips to her petal soft ones. She shifts to her side, facing me, and her hand runs up the front of my shirt from my stomach to between my pecs and further still until her fingers are splayed through the chest hair that peeks out from the top of my V-neck. 

The inside of her mouth is so warm and comforting as my tongue sinks into its depths. Her leg lifts and hooks over my hip as mine slides down to rest between hers, my hand clenching her ass as she rubs against my thigh. 

I hear the bed squeak and the door open and close and I break away from Stormy looking over her at the now empty room. She doesn’t seem to notice much because her hand cups my cheek and brings my face back down to hers. “Kiss me.”

It’s little more than a husky demand and I obey, kissing her until our mouths run dry and we’re both straining towards each other, needy and restless.

We’re both very aware that nothing is going to come of this make out session. We’re both exhausted and way too high to do much of anything besides tease each other relentlessly. We fall asleep wrapped around each other, fully clothed and horny. The last thought before my mind shuts down and my body is swept under by the current of sleep is that I love Stormy more than anyone else that has entered my life. I say this out loud and she replies with a soft breath that I realize is just a snore. 

I’m smiling when I finally drift away.


	13. Chapter 13

Stormy

It had been nearly a week since my night of transgression and my anxiety had gotten the better of me. It was the first week of December and I was thinking about moving out more seriously now. I moved around the kitchen with purpose, slicing vegetables for a salad and flipping the meat over in the Ziploc bag Josh was marinating it in. I chopped carrots and grinned down at a very patient Driver who stood just under my feet hoping for me to drop something.

Josh made a noise as he came in from the living room where everyone was gathered. A rousing game of Pictionary was in full swing but both myself and Josh had opted out halfway through to get dinner going. He made a shooing motion at Driver and came up behind me, reaching around to grab a broccoli floret from the salad bowl. I elbowed him back lightly and wasn’t surprised when he leaned a little harder against my back.

We had fallen into this playful and flirting phase that we both seemed comfortable with. Neither of us had gotten our hands down the other’s pants other than that one night, but each night I went to sleep curled next to him and each morning I woke up with his arms tight around me, holding me as close as possible. 

I wanted him desperately.

I just couldn’t. 

It literally pained me to spend every single day with him and not be able to fully commit myself to something more than what we had which seemed to be friends with limited benefits. I leaned back against him as he turned his nose to the sensitive spot right behind my ear, his lips grazing the flesh right there. I squeezed my thighs together and set the knife down with a hard clack. I reached behind me and grabbed the waist band of his jeans, holding his hip in place as I rocked back against him, his lips devilishly brushing against my hairline. His hand snaked around to the front of my shirt, his palm settling over my breast when Andre walked into the kitchen and gurgled out an apology, backtracking fast. 

Josh’s breath fanned across my ear as he laughed and I couldn’t take it. I turned on him and caught the back of his head with my hand, holding him in place as my lips crushed to his. My tongue pushed past his lips roughly and then we were in each other’s mouths and Josh had me pinned to the kitchen counter, his hard on rubbing against me while I tried to climb him. 

We broke apart at the sound of more than one throat clearing and Josh rolled his eyes at me before turning around. “Can’t a guy get some privacy in his own kitchen?”

Avan had Jane tucked into his side and he was grinning wildly at his best friend while Andre gagged dramatically as he reentered the room. “This is my kitchen too, and I’d rather not have to stand around and watch straight porn happen against the place where I fix my food.”

I giggled at that and pressed my hot face to the middle of Josh’s back, hiding my blush. Andre’s friend Rob came in just then and looked between all of us before saying, “Anyone need help in here?”

Andre grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and left the kitchen, telling Rob, “Everyone in there needs help. They’re all crazy.”

Avan asked Josh to show him the new surround sound system and left Jane with me to hang out. 

She smiled at me as I turned to finish cutting vegetables. “So, how are you doing?”

I grin over my shoulder at her and finish with the cucumber, moving on to the radishes and tomatoes. “I’m doing well.” Jane shuffles from foot to foot and I get her a knife and a cutting board so she can help. We’re standing side by side when I confess, “I don’t know what I’m doing with Josh.”

Jane smiles and looks over at me. “I guess you have to decide if you love him.”

I do. I already know I do. I love Josh. But am I in love with him or is he just a good time? I suspect he’s so much more than I deserve and that is what keeps me from making any declarations of hearts and flowers. I love him and when I look over at Jane I suspect she knows this because her smile is smug. I take a deep breath and ask, “Do you love Avan?”

She seems thoughtful as she contemplates her answer. “What Avan and I have is mutually fulfilling. I care deeply for him and on some level I suppose I do love him, but neither of us plan on this being a long term thing.”

My face has morphed into a frown as I look over at her. “Wait, haven’t you two been together for a year or something?”

Jane seems caught off guard by that and then she seems to count or something in her head, finally laughing out loud. “I guess you’re right. It feels like just yesterday we started going to events just so neither of us were alone.” I know Jane’s family is wealthy and her parents are in the movie industry. I think her dad is a producer or something but she doesn’t talk about them very often. Then she says, “How do you like living here? I know Andre always raves about having you around.”

I mull the answer for that over in my head. I don’t know Jane very well but if Josh trusts Avan and he’s been with Jane for a while I’m sure I can be as real with her as I can with the others. “I’m actually thinking about moving back home.”

My admission is greeted with an uncomfortable silence and I turn to see Jane looking at the entryway where Josh is staring at me, unguarded hurt written all over his face. I close my eyes tightly and put the knife down, ready to go after him. Avan puts his hand up when I turn back around and says, “I’ve got him.” And then he, too, disappears.

The rest of the evening was tense. Normally Josh and I would sit beside each other at the table but he chose a seat on the other side of Andre leaving the one to my right empty. Avan sat to my left and Jane next to him. Josh sat at the head of the table, a spot usually left empty, with Andre to his left and Rob beside him. 

When I wasn’t eating I kept my teeth clenched together inside of my mouth, the pressure of tears building up behind my eyes threatening to spill any time I was asked to pass something or was addressed to answer a question.

By the time the steak was cut into and the first bite was lifted to my mouth Andre innocently asked me when my second book signing was since my last one had been cancelled. Everyone sitting at the table knew what had happened and no one was being judgmental but it was one question too many and I shook my head, no answer popping to mind. I knew it had been rescheduled but I couldn’t remember the date even though I was sure it was next week.

Josh instead answered for me and after a moment of panic I slid my chair back noiselessly and softly excused myself from the table, the rush of blood in my ears drowning out any chatter made around the table.

I left my plate where it was and without looking at anyone I left the informal dining room. I made it to the bathroom just as my chest burst and I fisted my right hand, placing the side of my knuckles in my mouth to trap the keening sound in place. I bared down hard, tasting my own blood, and the shock of pain seemed to lessen the bloom of anxiety hitting me in the back of throat. I had somehow slid down to sit between the side of the toilet and the claw foot tub, my head bowed to block out any lights or sound when I felt him in front of me. His hands were gentle as he extracted me from the ball I had forced myself into and then I was in his lap with his arms around me. 

“Come on, Stormy. You’re better than this. Fight it.” I pressed my palms over my ears to drown him out but he refused to be ignored. He swatted my hands away and said, “Look at me.” I shook my head, denying him. “God dammit, Stormy. Look at me!”

My eyes opened and when I focused on the pitying look on his face something inside of me snapped and my fists raised to hit against his chest. “Don’t look at me like that.” I choked the words out, forcing them past the lump forming in my throat. “How dare you. You have no right!” I pushed against his chest as hard as I could even though his back was already against the wall. My small fists hit him, again and again while I cried and finally he grabbed my arms to hold me still. 

I could tell that he had been crying as well and then he said, “On the count of three we’re both going to scream.” My whole body folded in on itself as I tried to extract myself from his grip. Instead he gently turned me to look at him. “I’m going to do it with you, okay? On the count of three.”

I sucked in a shaky breath as he said one, my tears clogging my throat when he got to two but I nodded instead of fighting. On three we screamed, our voices trapped inside this too small bathroom and ricocheting back to us, unable to stay contained. I screamed until my lungs faltered and my voice tapered down to nothing. Josh didn’t stop with just one. As soon as he ended one primal yell he sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out one more. 

This time it was me comforting him and I pulled his face down to mine, peppering his damp cheeks with kisses. “Josh.” His name was a whispered prayer as I struggled to get him to look at me. His eyes were closed tight and it wasn’t until I repeated his name on a sob that he wrapped both limp arms around me and loosely held me to him. It was in that very surreal moment that I realized Josh wasn’t always okay. He was just as fucked up as everyone else. 

He just didn’t let many people see him when he was toeing that fine line where everything inside him needed some place to go to. Now he had let me in and I knew. I knew he wasn’t this perfect human being that everyone made him out to be. But he was perfect to me. Flaws and all.

We sat like that for a long while, unsure of the time that had passed. Josh’s head was dipped down to rest against my shoulder and my knees were spread on either side of his legs, my arms wrapped around his neck and my fingers ruffling his hair.

“We’re the worst hosts ever.”

This admission earned me a soft laugh as he pressed his lips to the hollow between my collarbones. “Are you ready to go back out?”

I’m still for a moment before I nod slowly, “I think I am.”

I scoot off of him and then hold out a hand to help him up. Josh takes a couple of deep breaths, collecting himself, before he opens the door and ushers me out before him, his strength at my back.

No one looked twice at us. Andre and Rob were standing where the coffee table once was, Queen’s “We Are The Champions” blaring from the speakers as they sang along with all they were worth. Josh sat down on one end of the sofa and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me from behind. We applauded along with Avan and Jane as they wrapped it up. 

Avan and Jane sang along to “You’re The One That I Want” from the Grease soundtrack. Josh and I pass and Andre and Rob went again, this time with a sweet rendition of Phantom of the Opera, blowing me away. 

Avan went rock with his next one and Jane did a country song. Then it came back around to us and Josh passed while I played with the idea. Finally Andre and Rob agreed to sing with me and from where I perched on the edge of Josh’s thigh I sang back up to their sassy version of “Barracuda”.

A few more rounds and everyone was ready to leave. I walked Avan and Jane to the door with Josh while Andre and Rob stayed put on the couch, talking quietly, heads bowed down towards each other. After seeing our guests out Josh grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway towards the bedroom. His smile was sly as he shut the door behind us. “I wonder if Rob will be here in the morning.”

I pull my shirt off over my head and toss it towards the hamper in the corner. Driver is snoring from his dog bed, having given up on sleeping with Josh when I started claiming the other side of the bed. “He seems like a nice guy.”

Josh is in his boxers already under the blanket and he’s eagerly watching me do a slow strip, not on purpose, but because I still don’t have full range of my left arm and my jeans always cause me a struggle. I can tell by the narrowing of his eyes Josh isn’t interested in talking about Rob anymore and then he proves me right by saying, “I didn’t know you could sing.”

I climb under the covers with him and lay on my stomach, my arm and chin propped up on his bare chest. “I can’t.”

“You sounded pretty good tonight.” 

I turn my head to the side and place a kiss above his nipple. Josh shifts under me and I can only guess what’s going on where I can’t see. I’m tempted to shift and find out but I’m somewhat worn out from the earlier outburst from today. Josh brushes my hair back from my face and with his hold gentle on my hair he meets me halfway for a kiss. 

I pull away and clear my throat, saying, “I bet you don’t suck half as bad as you think you do.”

He flinches and nods, “I’m pretty bad.”

It’s hard to believe there’s anything Josh is bad at so I admit, “I don’t believe it. Isn’t there a song you get stuck in your head and you just have to sing it to get it out?”

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes and shakes his head, “That’s different. I’m usually alone.”

I rub my cheek against him settling my tired brain down for the night. “You could sing to me any time.” I yawn and my eyes flutter shut as his heart beat drums out a slow tempo in my ear, “I wouldn’t make fun of you. Ever.”

He’s quiet for a long time and I figure he’s fallen asleep already when he whispers, “There is this song from last year. It makes me think of you.” He clears his throat and goes on, “Us. It makes me think of us.”

My lips press to his warm skin as I shift closer to him, half asleep and ready to drift off. “Which one?”

“It’s called I won’t give up.” He twirls a lock of my hair around his index finger and at my continued silence he says, “Do you remember it?”

I’m trying to conjure up what song he’s referring to but I’m drawing a blank and I whisper back to him, “No. I don’t think so.” I turn my head so my chin is resting against him again instead of my cheek. “Will you sing it to me?”

Josh looks very awake suddenly as his eyes dart down to mine. He studies my expression before he replies, “Seriously?”

I grin and stroke my fingers through his chest hair that nestles between his pecs. “Of course.” I make a cross over his heart and then press my lips there and say, “And I won’t tease you. I promise.”

Josh blows out a choppy breath mixed with laughter and then he leans back into the pillow behind his head. His hand runs through the length of my hair and he starts a low hum that causes me to turn my cheek to his chest, my eyes drifting shut once again. 

His voice is soft and barely a whisper as he begins, “When I look into your eyes, it’s like watching the night sky, or a beautiful sunrise, there’s so much they hold.” I blink my eyes open, the song resonating somewhere deep inside of me. I realize as he sings the next part I do know it, “And just like them old stars, I see that you've come so far, to be right where you are, how old is your soul?” I lift my head to look up at him as his voice breaks near the end of that last word and it looks like it physically pains him to sing the words. 

As he hits the chorus I’m moved to tears because I realize that to him they aren’t just lyrics to some song. 

“I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough, I’m giving you all my love, I’m still looking up.” 

They are words to something more meaningful than just a song someone wrote. They mean what we are to him. I push myself up and move my leg over, straddling his waist as he continues, “And when you're needing your space to do some navigating, I'll be here patiently waiting to see what you find.” I watch as he swallows a lump in his throat and he seems to be struggling with the next verse so I lean down close to him and place my lips against his, pushing the words from my lips to his, “'Cause even the stars they burn, some even fall to the earth, we've got a lot to learn God knows we're worth it. No, I won't give up.” 

His eyes open to stare into mine as that last word dissolves between us and I bring a hand up to rub my thumb across his eyebrow that has fallen into some half scowl of determination. I know there is more to the song but I don’t need to hear it. I don’t need to fall any further into love with him that I already am. I press my lips to his and close my eyes, relishing in the moment that his mouth softens under mine and his hands falls to my hips to hold me in place against him. 

When our tongues have finished the long process of getting reacquainted and I know the inner contours of his mouth just as well as I know mine I bear down my hips to rub against him and his hands fist, grabbing the sides of my underwear and twisting the material. He says my name in his hoarse voice and I cry out as he bucks up under me, creating a friction that wasn’t there before. His right hand leaves my hip to palm the back of my head and bring my face down to his where he whispers against me, “Come for me, Stormy.” And my hips piston faster, my eyes wide and unfocused as they stare into the swirling green and brown depths of his irises and then I watch in fascination as his jaw locks and the tendons in his neck strain tight right before he says, “Come.” 

The swell I’ve crested breaks and my legs shake as my orgasm hits me at full force. The little plastic button holding together the opening of his boxers rubbing against my clit as I come in wave after wave only extends the sensation and then Josh’s hand on my hip moves to my ass and directs my grinding motion, as he nears his as well. I reach down between us and slide my hand through the gap in material, my hand wrapping around his shaft, fingertips touching just so and his long heartfelt moan divides my attention as I give a few jerks of my wrist and he explodes, arching up into me. 

The heavy vein pulsating on the underside of his shaft rests against my thumb and I stroke the silky soft skin of his erection tenderly. Josh shudders under me, his hands falling loosely to his sides. I lean down and place my lips to the corner of his mouth and say softly, “Thank you.”

Josh’s sudden laugh seems misplaced at the same time that it dissolves the tension in the room. Driver snuffles in his sleep from the corner and we both grin at each other. Josh pulls me down to him, my hand still wrapped around him and he kisses my forehead. “Thank you, too.”

I nuzzle into him and fall asleep, spent and deserving of a long rest from such an emotionally wrought day.

“You can’t just leave!”

I turn to look at him, trying to figure out where this burst of anger has come from. “Josh, I need to do this.”

Andre comes to stand in the doorway of the guest room where I’m shoving handfuls of clothes into a bag. Last night was amazing but those words had stayed with me all night even in my sleep and I woke up with a renewed sense of urgency to get out of here. I needed space from everything that was happening with not just Josh but me as well.

My second book signing was scheduled for Monday and I wanted to be able to go on my own and hold my ground. I wanted to be strong. I didn’t want to have to lean on anybody anymore and Josh and Andre, while both amazing friends, were only holding me back. 

“Do you even remember what happened last time you went back there?”

I jerked my head up and my eyes found his immediately. My voice was soft and determined as I said, “I remember.”

Andre put a hand on Josh’s shoulder and pulled him from the room, shutting the door behind them, Josh’s voice raised in argument fading as they moved further away down the hall.

In less than a half an hour I was more or less packed and I dragged my bags to the front door, passing Andre where he sat on the couch. Josh was nowhere in sight but I could hear The Pixies blaring from his bedroom so I had a pretty good idea where he was holed up. Andre looked up at me, worry etched on his face. I sighed and dragged my hand through my hair. “I need to start therapy.”

Andre shifted his eyes away from mine and nodded. “I knew you would soon.”

My breath hitched and I swallowed the tears rising in my throat, tightening my breath and seizing my lungs. I breathed back the panic that threatened to overwhelm me once again. “It needs to be now.”

He got up and came over to me, his arms cocooning me in his strength as he hugged me and rocked from side to side. “You know we’re here if you need anything at all?”

I nod against his chest. 

“You should say bye to him.”

I sniffle back tears and lean away to look at him. “Does he hate me yet?”

Andre laughs but it’s a hollow sound and that makes me sad. “If there’s one thing Josh will never be able to do in his life it will be harnessing the ability to hate you.”

On that positive and hopeful note I move down the hall to his room. I knock on the door and am met with no answer so I push it open inch by inch, waiting for him to yell at me. Instead I hear the water running and I move farther into the room, shutting the door behind me. There’s a thick fog rolling out of the bathroom and I bite my lip uncertainly, unsure of whether I should go in or not.

The fates answer for me when Josh walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair standing up in every direction. I plop down on the side of the bed, my legs no longer able to hold me up, and Josh falters for a moment and then resumes walking toward me. 

“Come to say bye?”

I nod, not quite able to make words form. My eyes track a water droplet as it starts in the hollow of his neck and rolls down between his pecks, moving along the other drops and down lower until it skated over the muscles of his six pack to right above his belly button. Unceremoniously I leaned forward and swiped my tongue across his abdomen, catching the water in my mouth and pressing a kiss to the spot I’ve just assaulted with my lips. Josh’s hands catch my hair and hold me in place for a prolonged second and I’m so close to unhooking his towel and sucking him into my mouth when I look up at him from under my lashes and he whispers a curse and drops to his haunches instead. 

“You can’t look up at me like that and not expect me to want to worship you and keep you safe and make you stay here with me.” 

My smile is real as I stretch a hand out and run it through his still damp hair. “I want all of that, Josh. I do. But what I want and what I need are two different things. And right now I think I need to prove to myself that I can do this.”

Those little lines that form on his forehead while he’s deep in thought draw my fingers down to trace across them. Finally he nods and rises up on his knees, fitting himself between my parted legs. “Okay. I’ll support this on one condition.” At my hesitant acquiescence he bargains, “In one week you come here and spend the night.”

I lean forward and kiss him so lovingly. “I can arrange a sleepover.”

“And if you need me in the meantime-“

“You’re right here. Both of you.” At his confused looks I explain, “Andre already read me the riot act.”

His smile is slow but I can feel it against my cheek as his face presses close to mine and his bare, wet chest comes in contact with my shirt. “I’m going to miss you.”

My arms are around him and my knees hedge him into the cradle of my body as I hug him tightly. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

What an understatement that is.


	14. Chapter 14

**Josh**

 

I swing a leg over my Harley and twist the ignition.  The rumble between my legs hits the same level of urgency that’s driving me.  It’s been nearly a week since I’ve heard from Stormy.  Her book signing had gone off without a hitch and Andre had stayed by her side the whole time, reporting back to me by text every hour or so.  Tomorrow night would have been our sleepover night.

Instead I’m on my way to see her after the call I just got.  The roads are dark and mostly empty as I wind through the streets to Studio City.  It’s no time at all before I pull up in front of her apartment and dismount the bike.  I carry the helmet under my arm as I run up the steps leading to her door.

Less than a half hour ago I had woken to my phone buzzing spastically from my nightstand.  My bleary eyes had focused on the alarm clock at my bedside that flashed a 3 and two 4’s at me.  A quarter to 4 am and whomever was calling me was apparently in the mood to get bitched at.  I put the phone to my ear without looking at the readout, my brain still fuzzy from sleep, and said, “What the fuck do you want?” In a half groan. 

Her harsh whisper that asked me for help and told me she needed me propelled me out of bed, waking me up like a bucket of ice water being dumped on my sleep warmed body.  So in the darkness of the pre-dawn morning I rumbled down the streets leading me to her.  I would know the way even if I had never traversed these roads before.  There was an unbreakable magnet in us that would always ensure we come back together.

I felt it constantly.

I knocked softly on her door, listening for any sound from the other side.  I hear a whimper and then my name.

“Josh?”

I press my mouth to the doorjamb, “It’s me, open up.”

I hear her scramble as she stands up and the locks are being fumbled with.  Finally she wrenches the door open and cries out, collapsing against me. 

She’s skinnier than when she left.  I can feel her ribs through her shirt and mine as she leans into my body.  Her face is pressed to my neck as she sniffles and it’s almost as if she’s too tired to even lift her arms to hold on.  I walk her backwards into her apartment and the silence is overwhelming.  I shut the door behind me and flip the locks back into place.  I hold her away from me and look over her.

She’s turning into a skeleton of someone she once was.

“What’s wrong?  What’s going on?”  Her cheekbones stand out, sharp against her skin.  Her eyes are hollow and dark, no sheen to them as their once was.  Her hair is lifeless and dull and I can see the ridge of her collarbone through her shirt.  “Stormy.”  I realize she must not be sleeping or eating for that matter.  “Why didn’t you call sooner?”

I scoop her up into my arms and take her down the hallway.  I lay her gently on top of the new comforter and wrap my body around hers.  She whispers my name over and over as if she wants to tell me something but can’t get past that first word.  Finally I whisper back for her to go to sleep and she does.

At some time I fall asleep as well, waking up when my phone vibrates in my pocket.  I answer it to tell Andre that everything is fine.  I explain to him that Stormy called me in the morning and I ask him if he knew the trouble she’d been having.  He tells me she was fine on Monday.  I wonder if the book signing triggered some reaction in her.  The only thing I have planned for the day is a hike with Avan so I give Andre the heads up that I won’t be home today. 

Afterwards I text Avan and let him know I’ve got to cancel for the day.  He says he understands and that he’s taking care of Jane today since she seems to have picked up the flu.  We reschedule for next week.

I wake up close to noon with Stormy buried under me, folded in between my body and the blanket under us.  She’s shivering in her sleep and I lean back to study her features. 

She makes me want to cry.

I’ve been staring at her for a very long time, the sunlight streaming through the window has gone through a few different phases and angles on the carpet and walls, when she blinks her eyes open at me.  They are wide and startled for a moment and then I watch as her face falls in relief and her hands are gripping my shirt and pulling me as close to her as possible.

“Oh god, I thought you were a dream.”  Her lips find my neck and she just presses them to my skin.  She isn’t kissing me, just resting them in that sensitive spot where it curves, her chin perfectly aligned to my shoulder.  “I thought you were a dream and that I would wake up and you wouldn’t be here.”  And then she is crying, great big wracking sobs that shake her whole body as her hands loosen just to retighten on my shirt.

I whisper quiet nonsensical words to her as I hold her close.  I can’t believe I’ve let her go this long.  I feel partially responsible for how she is right in this moment. 

She pulls back to look at me and sees the pain in my eyes and starts shaking her head, “No, Josh.  Don’t.”  She says it with more conviction the second time. “Don’t.  I won’t be able to handle it if you blame yourself.”  Her small hands push against my chest until I’m forced to let go of her and roll to my back.  She’s quick to climb on top of me and settle against my thighs.  Her eyes are moist as she stares down at me and then she curls into my body, her head fitting into the ridge between my pecs.  She rests there as she says, “I thought I could do it alone.”  She sniffles and I bring my arms up to wrap around her, offering comfort the only way I can.  “Why can’t I do it alone?”

There’s a very pregnant pause before I say, “It doesn’t make you weak, you know?”  She tilts her head back to look at me.  I’m staring up at the ceiling, “Needing someone else.  It doesn’t make you weak.  It just makes you human.”  I swallow tightly because I know what I say next is going to hit her hard and I’m afraid she’ll take it the wrong way.  “It’s because you need me.  That’s why you are so pissed off about not being able to take this on alone.  If it were anyone else you’d be fine with it.  Why do you hate the idea of needing me?”

Stormy sits up, struggling out of my grip.  Finally she sits above me, staring down at me with a wounded look on her face.  “Is that what you think?  I hate the idea of needing you?”

I jerk my head affirmatively.  Her brows come together in a frown and her lips tighten with resolve.  She swings a leg over me and gets off the bed.  She grabs the phone off her dresser and comes back, resuming her position to straddle my thighs.  She unlocks the screen and then scrolls through the contacts.  She turns the phone to face me.  “I have over a hundred contacts in here, Josh.  I could have called any one of them.  I could have called all of them.  I could have called Andre for fuck’s sake.  Do you know why I called you?”  She tossed her phone aside on the bed and leans forward, her right hand propping her up from the center of my chest.  I shake my head at the question because I honestly don’t know why she chose me when she’s so upset at the idea of my help.  “I called you because you are the only one I don’t mind needing.”  She makes a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat and then leans further, her lips brushing mine.  “I accept needing you, Josh.”  She presses her lips more insistently to mine.  “I need you.”  Her admission is a whispered caress against my lips before her tongue strokes into my mouth.

I can’t even explain how much I’ve missed her and her touch.  Her kisses and her hands that immediately start roaming over my body.  I’ve missed how her whole body moves when she kisses, how she just slides on top of me as if she can’t touch enough.  My hands grip her thighs as she makes a slow rotation with her hips. 

The rush of arousal that hits my groin is instantaneous and I break away from the kiss to groan out loud.  Stormy’s hand lowers to the front of my jeans, palming my hard on and gripping it through the denim.  I jerk helplessly against her and pull her face back down to mine, my tongue searching for hers, our kiss sloppy and lacking finesse.  As soon as her fingers reached the tab on my zipper I flipped her over, her back hitting the mattress gently.  I backed the bottom half of me away from her and shook my head. 

“I didn’t come here for that.”

Stormy licking her lips is a sight that will stay with me the rest of my life.  I’m determined that she is the one for me.  We will eventually be together in every sense of the word.  And ten years from now we’ll be just as happy and comfortable with each other as we are today.  But if that doesn’t happen and I am with some other girl, I will feel absolutely sorry for her.  Because the mental vision of Stormy stretched out beneath me, eyes wide as I scoot further down the bed on my knees, tongue swiping across her bottom lip in anticipation will haunt me for the rest of my life.  I know no one else will measure up.  That is why I am determined to wait for her as long as it takes.

My fingers reach for the elastic band around her waist, her pajama pants a thin cotton material that mold perfectly to her hips and thighs.  Stormy’s hands stop mine momentarily as she says, “You didn’t come here for that either.” 

I lean down and place my lips on the soft skin beneath her belly button.  “Let me.”  Her body quakes as I swipe my tongue along her flesh.  Her hips lift towards my mouth and her legs spread automatically.  I can’t help but grin as I inch her pants down her legs little by little, my mouth continuing its assault, following the path of newly revealed skin. 

My lips brush against her hip bone, then her thigh.  I drag a kiss down to her knee and then move to place a kiss to her other one.  When her pants and finally down by her feet I can’t help but laugh as she hurriedly kicks them off from around her ankles and sends them flying to the floor in her impatience. 

Her whole body is flushed a soft pink as I kiss my way back up.  I pay special attention to a spot on her inner thigh that has her crying out.  It’s just inches away from where I want to be so after a few moments I scrape my teeth against her flesh, earning a hand in my hair, as I finish my return path to her center.  She wears these boy shorts that drive me nuts.  Instead of pulling them off of her I get impatient and push the material to the side and then I look up at her, her head is up off the pillow, her eyes looking down at me where I’m positioned between her thighs and then she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and with my gaze still on hers I deliver a slow lick to her plump lips. 

Her hand tightens on my hair and her eyes leave mine as she drops back to the pillow.  At my second lick she says my name and her hips raise to meet my mouth.  On my third she raises her legs, thighs pressing against my ears as she grinds upwards.  On my fourth and last she pulls my head up by my hair and says, “Quit teasing and eat me, Josh.”  Then she directs me back down to her and with a grin I seal my mouth against her and slowly, deftly, I scribe a love story with my tongue against her clit.

At one point I’m sure she’s trying to suffocate me, not that I wouldn’t be willing to die with her legs wrapped around my head, but I’d like to get her off before I pass out.  I turn my head to the side and find air and then delve back between her folds to find her entrance.  With the end of my tongue I delicately spread her open and then in a quick motion I spear into her over and over again.  Her hands tighten in my hair and she screams as she spasms against my face.  I jerk my head upward, my tongue still inside of her, and nudge her with my nose. 

Her chant of, “Oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.”  Keeps me from pulling away and then I feel her start to tighten around my tongue again.  This time her legs fall open, providing me with much needed air as I shake my head back and forth, my nose massaging her clit in time to my thrusts.  My hands move under her ass to tilt her up and the added angle seems to prolong her orgasm.  She’s alternatively pushing my face away and bringing it back to her core, the movement unsure and unsteady. 

I move my fingers away from her and reach up her body under the tank top she’s still wearing and close my fingers around a beaded nipple.  Her hand covers mine and she squeezes to let me know I can be a little rougher so I twist gently and she collapses beneath my ministrations as she yells my name out to the empty room and comes in waves, her inner muscles grasping my tongue and pulling it in deeper.  I wait until she rides out her climax before slowly extracting my tongue from her. 

She immediately reaches for me and I move up her body until I’m lying on my side next to her in her prone position, splayed out on her back.  She presses a hand to my jaw and pulls my face down to hers.  I’m hesitant to kiss her not sure how she feels about tasting herself on my lips but she answers for me when her lips meet mine and she moans.

I press my hips into the mattress as she pulls me closer and her mouth opens to mine, her tongue stroking against my teeth and tongue, her heady taste still lingering in my mouth.  She wraps her lips around my tongue and sucks it into her mouth, mimicking what she would do with my cock.  I pull back from her and look down into her eyes.  She smiles softly at me and then leans up on her elbows to kiss the corners of my mouth before collapsing back against the pillows. 

“Thank you.”

I laugh because I’ve never had someone thank me for going down on them before.  “It was nothing.”  I brush off the sentiment and watch her eyes turn very serious. 

“It was everything to me.”

I have a hard time swallowing because in this moment I realize that she’s talking about more than just a couple of orgasms.  Then she smiles and curls into me, her head tucked against the bicep that is propping me up.  I rest my forehead on hers and as I look into her eyes I fully admit to myself that there is nothing I would not do for her.  I am absolutely, completely and helplessly in love with her.

**Andre**

I stare in shock at Josh as he paces the living room.  Stormy is in the kitchen, her bag full of stuff sitting precariously on a barstool.  I whisper harshly so as not to alert our houseguest, “You can’t just say no.”

Josh stops and stares at me, eyebrows raised incredulously.  “Just fucking watch me.”

I throw my arms up and step closer to him, “You don’t say no to Letterman.  You just don’t.”

Josh points to himself and says the most ridiculous yet true sentence I’ve ever heard him utter, “I’m Josh Hutcherson.  I can say no to one late night show.”

He has never ever pulled the fame card and because he just has I know he’s deadly serious about this decision.  “She won’t let you.”

He narrows his eyes at me, hands falling to his hips as he glares at me, “How is she going to find out?”

“Who?”

We both turn to look at Stormy as she comes back into the room. 

Josh had disappeared earlier this morning to go get her and when he came back an hour ago she had been on the back of his bike, arms wrapped around him.  He was right, she looked like hell. 

I run a hand over my closely cropped hair and step back.  “You tell her.”

Josh rolls his eyes.  “Fine.”  He motions for Stormy to sit and then joins her on the couch.  Driver hemming her in from the other side.  Out of the three of us I think he missed her the most.  He’s still sleeping in his dog bed instead of reclaiming his side of Josh’s bed as if he’s waiting for her return.  Now that she’s back Driver is in his element, cuddling up next to her and looking extra pathetic.  Josh takes Stormy’s hand in his and holds it tightly.  “I have the Letterman show on Monday.”

Stormy looks questioningly at me and then looks back at Josh.  “Okay.  So?”

Josh huffs out a breath and looks down, collecting himself.  “When the sex tape came out he made a Top 10.”

Stormy sucks in air and her eyes widen.  “About me?”  Her voice is small and squeaks out.

At Josh’s nod Stormy pulls her hand from his and puts her head down between her knees as if she knows she’s going to hyperventilate.  When she looks back up she puts a hand to the side of her head as if steadying herself.  “Okay.  What did it say?”

Josh shakes his head.  I clear my throat from behind the couch and when she looks up at me I tell her the truth, “The only one I remember is number 6.”  At her insistent nod I say, “The 6th sign you’re Stormy Seasons is if you’ve gone from not dating Josh Hutcherson to moving in with him.”

She blinks up at me and then looks over at Josh.  “That’s it?”

Josh shakes his head.

“Wait.  You remember more than just that one.”

He nods in response. 

I share a look with him, trying to convey with my eyes that she doesn’t actually need to know the rest of them but Josh looks back at me as if saying, “You started this, I’m finishing it.”

He takes his phone from his pocket and pulls up the google search.  Then he hands it to her.

Top Ten Signs You’re Stormy Seasons

You’re a best-selling author but no one knows the name of your book.

Your name sounds like a porn star – oh wait, because you are.

Everyone shows up to your book signing, with copies of your sex tape.

You write a young adult novel – but your fans are all middle aged men.

You’ve gone from as quoted, “not dating” Josh Hutcherson to living in his house.

She hands the phone back and shakes her head.  “I don’t want to see the rest.”

Josh looks as heartbroken as Stormy as he tosses his phone onto the coffee table.  “I’m not going on his show.”

Stormy nods, “You have to.”

He scoffs in return and before he can use his celebrity to get out of it Stormy adds, “I would still do it.  Do you know why?”  At Josh’s small shake of his head she says, “Because he’s just a bully.  I know he doesn’t know me personally but everyone was very aware that I had no say in that shit being released.”  She looks away from Josh up to me and then back to him again.  “And because bullies should never have the upper hand.”

Josh sucks in a breath larger than I believe his lungs can handle and then releases it slowly with a groan.  “I hate it when you’re right.”

Stormy looks at him funny.  “When have I ever been right before?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, grabbing his phone and shoving it back in his pocket, “You’re always right.  I just never tell you.”  Then he cracks a half smile as Stormy laughs at his visible pain in admitting it.

That night I go out with Rob to a bar and about halfway through something on TV catches my attention.  Rob turns in his chair to look over his shoulder at what has me pausing in mid sip of my beer.  Letterman is interviewing one of Josh’s exes and she says jokingly, “I heard he’s coming on next week.  Are you sure he hasn’t cancelled yet?” 

Letterman grins salaciously and responds in a cackling voice, “Not yet but there’s still time.  It’ll be fascinating to say the least to see what he has to say about his relationship status.” 

I slowly lower my beer back onto the table and my phone rings.  I slide my thumb across it and Stormy’s voice is an angry whisper, “Did he really just say that?”

“Are you watching Letterman?”

“Yes.  Josh is sleeping but I wanted to stay up to watch this bastard.”

I blow out a breath, instantly thinking.  As a plan takes form a grin slowly forms on my face.  “How many times do you think Josh can name drop SBNN and bullies on a late night talk show before they address the issue?”

“Publicity.”  I can hear her humming approval.  “I really like this idea.” 

We’re both quiet, thinking, when Rob says, “Maybe he can wear one of the shirts, too.”

“I heard that.”  Stormy’s laughter is muffled when she says, “I really like your boyfriend.”

I can hear Josh talking in the background and Stormy says, “Josh, stop.  Josh-“  And then the line is dead and I put the phone back into my pocket.  I smile as I lean in to brainstorm with Rob about how we can turn this into a positive publicity stunt.

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

**Josh**

Andre looked me over and shrugged.  Stormy sat on the suede couch in the green room and nervously shifted.  It had actually been Andre’s idea that she come with us and at the time we had all been pumped full of adrenaline from a rather in depth planning session.

I straighten the shirt and look over at the rack of clothes the wardrobe department has sent in.

I guess showing up to Letterman in a t-shirt usually warrants a change of clothes.

Fortunately I was anything but nervous as I settle down beside Stormy and put an arm around her.  She smiles and kisses me on the edge of my jaw, her hand settling on my thigh as she taps her fingers against the denim of my jeans.  I kiss her back and her fingers go from a tap to a soothing caress as her lips explore mine.

Andre clears his throat and puts his hands on his hips.  “Try not to start something you can’t finish.  I mean, really, guys.”

We get the five minute knock.  Andre has already asked us not to be disturbed prior to me having to walk out because we don’t want to run the risk of someone cornering me and asking me to change. 

I have told my publicist to tell David Letterman that he has free reign over what he wants to ask.  I’m willing to field any question. 

For five minutes Andre runs mock lines with me and I practice what already comes naturally.  We don’t want the interview to feel rehearsed but I want to be prepared all the same.  In a way, I am putting on a performance.

I hadn’t exactly been on board with this plan when I had been presented with it Friday morning.  Andre and Stormy had sat down across from me at the island and told me about their brilliant plan.  I had cringed but I had been thoughtful as well.  What sealed it for me what their determination.  I figured I had limited options.  I could go on Letterman and pretend everything was fine and he hadn’t embarrassed the woman I loved in front of the whole world.  That wasn’t going to happen.  I could go on and confront him.  That one was out because I didn’t want to rise to his level.  Denying the interview had its pros and cons.  I would look unprofessional but it would get the message to the Late Show host that I didn’t approve of the way he handled the situation.  That was still my top choice.  The last was that I could take this crazy idea of theirs and promote Straight But Not Narrow while smiling and letting Letterman know I wasn’t standing for his crap.

The more they talked about it, and they took turns telling me little details they had worked up, the more I liked it.

And here I was in jeans and a pair of slip on Vans with my SBNN gear ready to be labeled a fashion victim by my fans and the media because I didn’t exactly look TV worthy.  I couldn’t let that bother me, though.  I didn’t feel like I’d be letting anyone down and with Avan’s encouragement to keep it civil I was ready to go out there and leave my mark.

The knock on our door signaling that it’s time to come out followed by a woman outfitted in head gear so she could hear what everyone was saying on this floor peeked her head in.  She stared at me for a second and then looked over at the rack of clothes.  Then her eyes fell to Stormy sitting beside me and she flashed me a grin.  She scooted into the room and said, “You’re planning something.”

Stormy looked at me worried and then I stood and held my hand out.  “I’m Josh.” 

The aid shuts the door at her back and nods, taking my hand with hers.  “I know.  And she’s Stormy.  And you’re about to avenge your woman, right?  Because if so I am behind you all the way.  I am a huge fan and I ship you guys so hard you have no idea.”  She sucks in a breath and listens to a static voice in her ear then she winces.  “I’m Mona.  And if you aren’t planning to go out there and make a total ass out of my boss please forget everything I just said.”

Stormy laughs and stands, reaching to shake the woman’s hand with hers.  “Hi Mona, I’m Stormy.”

The darker haired woman with her glasses slightly crooked grins and pumps her hand up and down.  “I loved your book.  And I like your taste in men.”  Then she blushes as if she can’t believe she just said that out loud and I can’t help but laugh. 

Stormy nudges me with her elbow, “He’s a looker.”

Mona dips her head to hide a shy smile and then clears her throat, back to business.  “It’s time to head out.  I wanted to apologize ahead of time because I am a fan and I don’t know what he’s planning to ask you-“

Stormy gets this look like she’s thinking and I lean over and kiss her quickly.  “Wish me luck.”

She pats me on the cheek and replies, “Break his legs.”

Andre laughs outright and I shake my head, turning to follow Mona to the side of the stage.

The production director does a double take at  my outfit and then says something into his headpiece.  I smile and calmly wait for my introduction. 

“You know him as Peeta from the Hunger Games and now you can watch him in Catching Fire, let’s give a warm welcome to Josh Hutcherson!”

I wave to the audience as I walk towards Dave, holding out my hand.  He dips his head and says, “What are you doing?”  Low enough that you can’t hear him over the audience applause.  I smile and nod, giving the appearance that I’m answering a pleasantry. 

Then he claps me on the back and says, “Watch it, son.”  And he flashes his smile and head back around to his desk while I make my way to the chair.  I sit down and cross one foot over my knee, as usual.

The crowd dies down and Dave sits back in his chair and says, “I heard you had a nice day yesterday with the misses.”

Yesterday after a hour long flight and a quick nap to settle our equilibriums Andre, Stormy and I had gone ice skating at Rockefeller Center and out to dinner at The Sea Grill.  We hadn’t bothered to dodge the paparazzi. 

“It was a beautiful day.  We both love it here.  There’s an organization I work with whose looking to branch out and find a possible office here in New York.”

The host’s eyes narrow infinitesimally and he points to my shirt.  “Is that what this is?  This Straight But Not…”

“Narrow.  Straight But Not Narrow.  And yeah.  We do a lot of work helping set up GSA’s and providing information-“

He makes a noise like he’s agreeing and interrupts me by saying, “Well it’s nice to see the younger actors out there making a difference.  Let’s talk a little about this franchise you’re all caught up in.”

“Sure.”

“So you just finished filming the last two of the series and the second Hunger Games-“

“Catching Fire,” I correct him.  It pisses me off when people call it the sequel or the second Hunger Games.  He probably knows that. 

Letterman nods, “Right.  That one.  Now that Catching Fire is out what are you expecting to do in the near future?”

“Right now I’m just enjoying my down time.  I’ve hosted a few events for SBNN-“

“Are you looking forward to getting back to work?”

I smile and tap my fingers against my shin as I hold it up.  “I’ll be heading back to work in mid-January but for now I’m focusing my energy elsewhere.”

“Like into this new relationship?  I heard your girlfriend was here with you today.  Are you two finally admitting to dating?”

“We’re roommates for the time being.  I’m sure you understand after everything she’s been through with the media she’s just laying low.  Stormy actually raised more than 10 thousand dollars to Straight But Not Narrow-“

“That’s-“

Sick of the bullshit I talked right over him to finish my sentence, “by donating the proceeds of her sales from her two book signings.  She’s doing remarkably well.  I’m sure she’s not the only person in the spotlight who has had to deal with domestic violence and we both really appreciate the encouragement everyone has sent her way.  Her fans are just amazing.  Stormy’s very grateful for their support through this tough time.”

After I finish he stares at me for a pregnant pause.  “I’m glad to hear she’s making a full recovery.”

Finally he fucking gets it and I answer, “Yeah.  It was touch and go there for a while.  She was pretty beaten up.  There’s still some damage done to her arm and she’ll have to go to physical therapy when it heals a bit more.  She has such a strong character, you know?”

He nods as if he’s not sure he should answer so I answer for him, aware I’m now dominating the interview.  “In January I’m heading to Africa to film a documentary type of film for Disney. It’s a stretch from anything I’ve done before so I’m super stoked to get started on that.”

Dave smiles and leans forward, “Well that sounds like a fun time.  What kind of prep work goes into a trip like that?”

The rest of the interview went smoothly and by the time we cut to commercial I stood up to leave.  I unhooked my mic and the pack and made sure it was off before I handed it to the production assistant that was coming toward me.  I turned to look at Dave and without the audience overhearing I said, “If you ever attack her again I’ll refuse to come on your show.  The only reason I came on this time was because she talked me into it.  It takes a special kind of person to bully a woman whose just been beaten and suffered some of the worst psychological pain.  I hope you never have to suffer through what she has.”  Then I turn without waiting for his reply and I smile and wave to the audience as I walk off the stage.

After the show I meet back up with Andre and Stormy.  She is trading numbers with Mona and she smiles when I step up next to her.  “I got in contact with Conan’s crew and they have an opening.  I got Mona in.  She’s turning in her two week notice tomorrow to head out to L.A.  I told her she could look us up whenever.” 

I shake the other woman’s hand as I congratulate her.  “You should definitely come hang when you get out west.”

The woman thanks us both and then disappears down the hall.  I turn to Stormy and swing an arm around her shoulder as we head to the exit.  “We have to make it through the alley still.”

Stormy shrugs.  “That’s fine.  I’ll just stand back and let you do your thing.”

That’s not quite what happened.  The long line of fans waiting to have pictures taken or have something signed went wild when I walked out but then Stormy followed after and the voices raised a level.  Stormy faltered and stared out wide eyed and a little frightened at the people cheering.

She stood back with Andre while I signed books and posters and scraps of paper.  At one point a girl yelled out her name and Stormy looked over with a small smile.  She didn’t move forward into the mob but she waved and said Hi.

Someone screamed out that they liked her book and she replied with a thank you as we reached the car.  I opened the door for her as Andre got in the front and I slid into the back, pulling the door closed.  We headed back to the hotel in relative silence.

That night I laid on my back with my head in Stormy’s lap while she played with my hair and we watched Dear John.  It was Stormy’s first time seeing it and she had chosen it more for Channing Tatum than the actual story.  I let it slide because I was the one sharing a suite with her, not Magic Mike. 

“This bitch is so stupid.”

Andre shushed her as he chewed on a twizzler.  She looked down at me, making a funny face and I smiled up at her.  Her features turned serious as she stared into my eyes and I knew that look.  It was the same one she gave me when she came to some kind of conclusion but she never actually expressed those hidden thoughts.  This time she came as close as she ever had before and bent over to press a kiss to my lips.  Against them she whispered, “Thank you.”  Then she sat back up and smiled down at me before turning her attention back to the movie.

I quit paying attention after that.  I was too busy memorizing everything about this one moment.  The way her fingers spread through my hair.  How her legs shifted the tiniest bit beneath my head.  Her smell and heat and how much I wanted to turn over and bury my face between her thighs.  The sound of her phone ringing brought me out of my daze and I reached onto the coffee table in front of the couch we were currently occupying in the living room of the suite. 

Stormy answered it, pressing the phone to her ear, listening to the person on the other end.  Her eyes lit up and she gently pushed me until I raised my head enough for her to get off of the couch.  I watched with interest as she moved from the room to the windows by the balcony, her back towards us.  Her laughter tinkled in the air and I watched as she genuinely smiled, thrilled by whoever was on the other end.

I wanted her to react that way when I called her.  She paced around a little and then went to the bedroom.  Nearly a half hour later the movie ended and Stormy still hadn’t come out.  Ignoring Andre’s warning I approached the cracked door and listened to her soft voice say, “I’ll see you in a few days.  No, he’s not coming for Christmas.  He might make it up for the weekend.” 

She was silent and then she yelled, “You what!”

Her voice died down again and I nudged open the door to see her lay on the bed and put a pillow over her face, she replied to the person with a muffled voice, “You can’t see me but I’m attempting to smother myself right now.  If this hotel wasn’t so nice it would probably work.  I think they have anti-suffocation pillows or something.”  She groans, “I don’t know, okay?  I was making it up.  I doubt there’s really such a thing as anti-suffocation pillows.” 

I push open the door and watch her silently as she tosses the pillow to the side.  “I can’t even deal with this, Cathy.” Ah, she was talking to her mom then. She sighs and presses a hand to the top of her head.  “You can uninvited him, okay?  It’s not rude at all.  You just call him and say you made a mistake and that he can’t join us for dinner.”  She listens for a minute and then takes the phone away from her face and opens her mouth in a pretend scream.  She brings the phone back and says, “Okay, fine.  But the last time Josh met one of my exes he punched him in the face.  Twice.  So don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  Stormy groans and says, “I love you too.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  Kisses.”

She ends the call and then tosses the phone towards the other end of the bed.  I watch her as she stares up at the ceiling above her, quietly assessing.  Finally I decide I’d rather be over there laying with her in bed so I do just that.  She doesn’t look surprised and I realize she probably knew I was there the whole time.  Stormy likely didn’t take the call privately for her own sake but for mine and Andre’s as we finished the movie.  She opens her arms to me as I near the bed and I crawl across the wide mattress to her and settle on top.  She wraps her legs high around my torso and I rest my head in the valley between her breasts.

One hand sinks down beneath the collar of the back of my shirt where her fingers rub over the colorful tattoo I have there.  The other plays with the finger of my right hand out to our side.  The silence is anything but uncomfortable and we sink into a game of trying to match our breathing to the others.  As soon as we are in sync she holds her breath purposely to throw me off and I turn my head to nip her skin and then she giggles and we match up our breathing again.

Finally she says, “My mom invited an old ex of mine to dinner Friday night.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Stormy**

As if arriving in Buffalo on Christmas Eve wasn’t harrowing enough the person waiting for me at baggage claim sent me over the edge.  I pulled up short at the familiar sight of my ex standing off to the side.  His hands in his pockets and his deep blue eyes assessing as he casually leaned back against a wall.  I contemplated turning and hiding but his eyes found mine and the slow smile that curved his lips upward made me simultaneously cringe and flush with warmth.

Tyler pushed off the wall with his broad shoulders and met me halfway as I hesitantly stepped forward.  I had a feeling my parents had planned this and I was going to let them know how I felt about this little scheme when I was face to face with them.

Strong arms folded me into a wide chest and I scrunched up my arms between us, not pushing away but not reciprocating.  I kind of just stood there and let it happen.  I was beyond uncomfortable but I waited out the embrace until he dropped his arms and stood back.

“Look at you, cupcake.  You look amazing.”

I raised my eyebrows at his pet name for me.  “Thanks.  Uh.”  I looked towards where the luggage was starting to make its rounds and I stepped to the side to wait for my bag.  “So, what are you doing here?”

His laugh still causes a reaction in me and I curse the fact that someone other than Josh can create that rush of desire.  “Cathy and Bob sent me.  They said you were planning to rent a car and since I’m living in Buffalo now I told them I could just grab you up and bring you with me.”

I looked over my shoulder sharply.  “You’re driving me home today?  And staying?”

His flannel rose and fell with his shrug.  “They offered me the spare room.  It won’t be so bad, Stormy.  It’ll be like old times.”

I blinked at him slowly.  I could feel the panic rising and I either needed a bong hit or I needed to talk to Josh.  My bag came around and I grabbed it with a slight hint of desperation.  The quicker I could get home the more likely I could settle in and call Josh.  He was probably still mid-flight so I couldn’t call him now.  I tried to mentally calculate the hours until I could hear his voice and then scoffed at myself for being so petty.  Sure, Josh offered his services as a friend but he was going home for the holidays.  It was Christmas Eve.  I had seen him less than 3 hours ago.  I could make it through one day without him.

An hour later I was in full freak out mode. 

Thankfully my parents were both fully dressed and I had cornered my mom in the kitchen as she stirred a pot of boiling potatoes.  “You look so good, sweetie!”  Her arms raised to hug me and I crossed mine over my chest and stared her down.  She made a clicking noise with her tongue and turned back to the stove.  “You just go ahead and yell at me but Ty’s parents were going on a cruise and you said yourself that Josh is just a friend.”

I picked up a hand towel from the counter and swatted her with it.  “A friend with benefits.  There’s a difference.  It’s not platonic!  We sleep in the same bed and everything.”

My mom looked over at me and smiled slyly.  “Well maybe if this Josh character sees you and Tyler together he’ll step up.”

I stared at her, stunned.  “Why do you even care?  You’re the one always telling me to get laid and you sit there and promote free love but now you want me to date him?  You make no sense.”

She just turned to grab vegetables from the refrigerator and handed me a knife.  “I married your father, you know.  So it isn’t like I don’t believe in soul mates or commitment.”

“You got married because I was born.”

She starts slicing carrots while I do the celery.  “That’s not entirely true.  We got married because we were young and stupid.  And because you were born and it seemed like the right thing to do.”

I rolled my eyes and kept cutting.  “Well I just want to inform you that Josh gets here on Friday and we aren’t flying back until Sunday.  I expect you to behave and I’m sure you won’t mind that he’s staying in my room with me while he’s here.”

She turned to me, mouth open to debate and I put a hand up, “If you want me to stay here, you’ll accept that condition.  Because I’m sure there’s a hotel around here somewhere.”  Leveling a narrowing glare at me she turned back around and with her lips pinched closed tight she continued prepping the vegetables for the soup. 

I spent most of the day in or near the kitchen to keep away from Tyler.  I wanted to spend time with my dad but with the two men bonding I didn’t want to go anywhere near. 

After a quiet dinner filled with stunted conversation my mom roped my ex into helping with dishes.  Josh had texted me earlier to let me know he had safely reached his parent’s house and to call him when I got a chance.  I was still waiting for that chance.

I took the opportunity to go sit on the couch with my dad and he held his arm up to allow me a space to cuddle in next to him.  He squeezed me tight to him and said, “How’s my moonbeam?”

I smile at the old nickname and get comfortable as I sink into his side.  “I’ve been doing better.  How are things here?”

He sighs and leans his tanned cheek against my hair.  “As good as ever.”

We’re silent for a stretched out moment before he says, “We should smoke a celebratory pipe.  It’s not every day my daughter comes to visit.”

I laugh because I’m pretty sure he’s just looking for a reason to get high and who am I to deny him.  “Pack it up.  Do you want me to get mom?”

He sits up and cringes, his clear eyes the color of a green glass bottle.  “Hell no.  That woman runs through our stash quicker than I can replenish it.  We’ll just take a toke, you and I.”  I follow him to the sunroom at the back of the house and watch with an amused grin as he lights incense and waves the freshly lit stick around the room.  We settle into the wicker chairs and I curl my feet under me while he packs a bowl and then lights it.  “Now that’s the stuff.”  He flashes me a toothy grin and I can’t help but smile back.

My parents were intrusive and loud and strange and unlike any parents I had ever met growing up.  But I loved them more than air.

“Why do you think mom invited Tyler?”

My dad blows out through his nose and his brow is wrinkled in thought and I giggle that he looks like a dragon.  He just smiles before handing me the bowl and the lighter.  I accept it graciously and listen while he tries to explain.  “I think Cathy wants you to be happy.  We didn’t much like Adam.  He was very controlling and well, we both know how that turned out.”  He reached over and touched my knee gently as if to apologize for bringing it up.  “She can hear it in your voice when you talk about him.  Josh, that is.  She thinks you two would be ideal.  And she is excited to meet him Friday.  You know your mom.”  I hand the bowl back after taking a couple of hits. 

“She invited him here to make Josh jealous.”

He just looked at me and winked.  “You didn’t hear that from me.” 

I laughed and settled back in my seat, letting the calm and warmth wash over me while we talked about everything I’d missed in the last few months.  My parents were considering retirement and they were both approaching their mid-60’s.  They both enjoyed their careers but they enjoyed being together more and sometimes my dad’s hours being a lawyer were longer than my mom liked.

I supported their decision but I also knew neither would be happy just being home and they would probably end up traveling.  I could imagine them selling off their worldly possessions to buy an RV.  I would worry more about them in their retirement than I currently did being on opposite coasts.  There was no stopping them, though, and so I could only do what they did for me and support whatever they wanted to do.

I was getting ready for bed when Josh called.  I hopped across the room with my jeans down around my knees to the little white dresser that still sat against the north wall of my old bedroom.  I snatched my phone off it and answered breathlessly as I fell over onto the bed with a squeal.  “Josh!”

“Hey!  What are you doing over there?”

“I was changing and I didn’t want to miss your call.  Give me a sec.”  I put the phone on the bedspread and slid my jeans off the rest of the way.  I curled into the comforter in just my panties and a tank top and put the phone to my ear.  “I am so happy to hear your voice.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, “I love hearing that.  God damn, I miss you.  It’s going to be so strange sleeping alone the next two nights.”

There was a tap on my bedroom door and I called out  for them to enter.  Tyler stuck his head in the room and said, “Hey, I was hoping I could talk to you.  I feel like you’ve been avoiding me since the airport.”

I help up my phone, “I’m actually talking to someone.  Maybe it’d be best if we talked in the-“

He came in despite my words and I watched him as he walked to the wall where I had pictures tacked up from a long time ago.  Some were of us. 

“Wow.  Look at how happy we were.”

With my phone pressed to my mouth I said, “That was a decade ago, Ty.  We were in high school.”

He just looked over at me and shrugged, smiling.  I turned my attention back to Josh.  “So what were you saying about missing me?”

Josh laughed and said, “I’m going to be a mess if I don’t have you next to me in bed.  Do you know how lonely I’ll get?”

I suck in a sharp breath because his voice has gone all dreamy.  My words are little more than a whisper when I say, “Tell me.”

I look up at Tyler as he makes a noise, he’s standing at the foot of my bed staring at me.  “I’m going to just let you have your privacy and I’ll catch you in the morning.”

I clear my throat and unabashedly reply, “Okay.  See you tomorrow.”  He shakes his head as he walks out.  I turn to my side, my back facing the door, as I say to Josh, “Tell me how lonely you’re going to be Josh.”

Christmas was the longest day of my life.  I was sure it was only taxing because I knew in less than a day Josh would be here.  I wanted him here.  I had been so unsure of that until now.

I was sitting beside the Christmas tree on the floor, twirling a glass ornament around the prickly branch when Tyler sank down next to me.  He put a hand on my leg and I stared down at it until he moved it. 

“So I was wondering.”  He waited until I looked up into his eyes.  I nodded for him to go on.  “This thing you have with Josh isn’t anything permanent, right?”

I tilt my head curiously, “Why would it matter?  We had our chance, Ty.  It’s over and done.”

He licked his lips looking away.  “Do you still feel the heat?”

I think about that and decide to answer honestly, “I do.”  He looks at me sharply and I stop him by holding up a hand, “I feel some type of heat.  My body remembering yours, maybe.  But the fire I feel with Josh is beyond anything we ever had.”  I shiver just thinking that he’ll be here by this time tomorrow.  My thighs clench in response and I salivate, quickly swallowing.  “I don’t know what Cathy told you.  And I’m sorry if you got dragged into one of her crazy schemes.  I really am.”

“So this Josh guy.  He’s good to you?”

I think about what Josh is to me.  Good doesn’t even touch on it.  “He’s amazing.  He’s…”  I blink as a thought passes through my mind.  Would Josh answer the question the same way?  Was I good to Josh?

I knew the answer to that.  It was no.  And it made me clench my fists, my left hand not quite ready to exert the pressure.  Tyler must have sensed my inner turmoil because he got up and left to the living room, giving me a moment to myself.

We exchanged presents later, and after all were open a lone brown package sat under the tree.  I grabbed it and studied the tag.  “To: Josh/From: St Nick”  I shook the box, listening closely.

“Is that for you?”

At my mom’s voice I yelped and dropped the box guiltily.  I glared up at her.  “You scared me!”

She tsked, “Quit snooping and come help me in the kitchen.  The men are out back chopping firewood.”

I followed her and leaned against the counter waiting for further instructions.  Instead of needing my help she motioned me into a chair at the table and said, “Tell me about this Josh.”

I twirled a small section of hair around my finger as I thought about what I could tell her.  “He’s a really great person.  He does a lot of charity work-“

My mom looked over at me with her eyebrows raised.  “You know damn well I meant tell me about Josh.  As in how is the sex?  Is he adequately hung?  Does he understand that your pleasure should always come before his?  Pun intended, by the way.”

I folded my arms on the table in front of me and put my head down on them with a drawn out groan.  “Mom!”

She slapped my right arm with the flat back of the wooden spoon she was stirring with.  “Don’t “Mom” me!”

I looked up at her, “Yes, Cathy.  He’s a beast in the sack, his dick is huge and he always lets me come first.  Happy?”

She seemed to think about it before nodding with a smile tilting her lips up barely at the corners, “Yes, actually.  That makes me very happy.”  She nodded once more, pleased with herself and turned back to the stove.  I sighed and stared off into space.  Was it tomorrow yet?

**Josh**

I boarded the private jet and buckled in.  With the private airfield in Machias just a few miles from Stormy’s parents I had decided to fly there directly instead of dealing with bustling airports the day after Christmas.  Not to mention this flight would be much faster and the quicker I got there, the sooner I could hold Stormy.

I sat back and watched out the window as we taxied and took off.  Only an hour and a half later we were landing at a tiny airfield and I was being directed to a waiting car.  The second I cleared the chain link fence into the parking lot Stormy was out of her car and running towards me.  I flung my bag to the ground and opened my arms to catch her.  The leap she performed cleared the remaining space between us and then her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist as I twirled around with her.  Her wild laughter washed over me and as we came to a standstill, her body still wrapped around mine, she smiled down at me and then crashed her lips into mine, causing me to stumble backwards.  I moved one palm down to her ass and then walked forward until I came into contact with the hood of her car and leaned her back against it.  She grinned as I pulled away, staring at her as her legs fell free.  She moved to sit up and I gently pressed her back down.

Her eyes grew soft with understanding and she was reaching for me when I caught her hands.  “Not here.”

It took my words crashing over her for her to realize where we were, still in the parking lot of the tiny landing strip.  She scooted off the hood and in a defining moment where our eyes searched the others we looked away as we both scrambled to our respective doors.  The moment we were in and buckled she started the car and threw it in drive and zipped out of the small lot.  We ended up at a little motel on the edge of town and she wasn’t shy as she went in before me and paid in cash for a night even though I knew we only planned to be there for an hour or two.

I didn’t know how long she could be gone before everyone would notice but I doubted we had much time.  As soon as the door shut behind us her coat was tossed aside and her shirt was off and overhead, flying across the room.  I danced out of my shoes as I watched her strip and when she was down to nothing but those ridiculously sexy panties that looked more like little cotton shorts I pulled her to me even though I was still mostly dressed and I sat on the bed.  She climbed into my lap, her hips swiveling already, while my lips sucked a dark pink nipple into my mouth.  I rolled it gently between my teeth and listened to her cries of my name as her body shook against me in anticipation.  She took great care in divesting me of my clothes and once I was in nothing more than my boxers she pushed me back on the bed and climbed right on top.

“Josh?”

I ran a hand through her hair and tore my eyes away from her naked torso to look up at her, “Storm?”

Her eyes were way too thoughtful for what we were about to do.  Her gaze shifted between my right and left eyes as she bit down on her lip.  I waited, my hands stroking up and down her thighs patiently while she worked up the nerve to say whatever was on her mind.  “Do you think I’m good to you?”

Not what I was expecting.  My palms stopped and I furrowed my brow in thought.  “What do you mean?”

She moved to get off of me but I stilled her, holding her legs down with barely applied force.  She looked everywhere but at me as she sighed and said, “You’re so good to me and I feel like I give you nothing in return.”  She finally puts her hands on top of mine and looks down at me again.  “Why do you even want me around?”

If it were anyone other than Stormy I’d think she was hinting for compliments.  I knew though, by the hurtful look in her eyes, that this was a self-doubt of hers that needed to be addressed.  “You think you don’t comfort me?  You make me laugh.  I smile more when I’m around you.  It makes me feel good to cook for you and take care of you, to know if you need something you trust me enough to ask me.”  I sit up easily and move to wrap my arms around her.  I switch our positions, holding onto her tight as I turn her on the bed, lying her on her back and lowering myself to cover her with my body.  “Maybe that’s selfish of me.  To admit that I keep you around because you make me feel better about myself.  But it’s the absolute truth and I would have it no other way.”  I kiss her softly and trail my lips from the corner of her mouth to her cheek and I stop beside her ear, “You are very good to me, Stormy.”  She tightens her hold on my biceps as my words caress the shell of her ear.  I rake my teeth across her earlobe, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her that catches on a moan as one of her hands grabs a handful of hair.  “You are good to me and good for me.  And don’t ever doubt it.”  I wait for her nod and then I drag my lips down to her neck.

Her left hand is still wrapped around my bicep, her grip not as sure as her other one in my hair.  While my lips explore the soft flesh behind her ear and near her shoulder her right hand travels from my hair down to my shoulder and blazes a trail down my chest to my abs and then lower.  She wastes no time sliding her fingers beneath the waistband of my boxers and then she’s there and her hand cradles me in her palm.  Her fingers wrap around me and my hips surge forward of their own accord. 

I abandon her soft skin to push her panties off and she divests me of my boxers.  I swallow hard because I know what she really wants as she uses her hands to direct me to her.  We share a moment in time where our eyes measure each other and I shake my head the tiniest bit.  I see the disappointment there, but then she seems to understand and instead of entering her I align myself with her lower lips and I thrust.  Her hand is still wrapped around me and her wrist turns on every forward stroke.  I gasp as her thumb brushes the head of my cock and then her clit caresses the tip and it doesn’t take long for me to drop my face to the pillow beside her head as I pant her name.  My hips have stopped moving because I don’t want to come yet but her hand is twisting and turning and I can tell she’s close because her whole body is moving, trying to reach that pinnacle of feeling.  She bucks beneath me and my teeth are clenched tight as I try to hold back my release. 

She seems to suddenly strive for what she wants and her hand drops from my shaft only to move to my ass.  She has a handful of flesh and she uses the leverage there to rub herself along my length.  Her voice is wild as she grunts and pleads.  I’m covered in her juices, massaging that tiny bundle of nerves of hers, moving my hips in a circular motion when she starts to shake.  I lean against one hand, shifting my weight, and move my other arm down between us.  My fingers plunge into her heat and her left hand joins my right, holding me still inside of her as she rides me. 

“Josh, I can’t.”  She’s practically sobbing, so close yet so far from where she needs to be.  “It’s just right there.”  Her words come out on a frustrated moan.  Her hand moves from mine to rub against her clit and there are tears in her voice when she finally gives up.  “I can’t.” 

She sounds so defeated I immediately shake my head.  “You can and you will.”

She drops her hands to the bed and leans back, no longer putting forth any effort and I stop above her. 

“I just can’t.”

I study her face, disappointment evident there and I reply, “You’re going to come, Stormy.  Even if I have to force it out of you.”

She looks away towards the curtain covered window.  “Josh-“

I move down her body until I’m between her thighs and she looks down at me in surprise, attempting to sit up and scoot away.  I hook my hands around her thighs and yank her towards my face, placing her legs over my shoulders.  Her eyes are wide and startled and very blue as she stares at me. 

“If I do something you don’t like, I’ll stop.”

She swallows audibly and jerks her head in a facsimile of a nod.

I deliver a long lick and then close my eyes and hum with appreciation as her flavor bursts across my tongue.  The noise she makes is smothered behind her closed lips but I get the gist and do it again, this time swirling my tongue across her labia and darting out to stroke her clit.  I suck her into my mouth and flick her bud with the tip of my tongue.  Her hand lands in my hair and her mouth opens to elicit some form of yell.  It switches mid cadence as she grabs my hair in her hand and directs me away from her clit down to her opening. 

Trusting her to keep her legs where I put them I moved my hands to separate her folds and my thumb brushed against her clit in time to the stabbing repetition of my tongue as I delved as far into her as I could go.  I waggled my tongue back and forth inside her as she mewled my name over and over.  “Josh, Josh.  Oh, God, Josh.”  And when she came she put both hands on the back of my head and held me down telling me not to stop.  I wasn’t planning on it.

As soon as she came her legs started to drop from my shoulders and I moved my hands back to her knees to grip them and hold her in place. 

“What are you doing?”

I answered her question by swiftly licking each plumped lip between her thighs.

“Josh, I can’t-“

I pulled back far enough to say, “Do you remember what happened the last time you said you can’t?”

She clamped her lips tight together.

I grinned up at her and said, “Good girl.  Now lay there and let me eat you.”

She sucked in a breath through her nose and ran a hand through my hair, ruffling the strands between her fingers.  I leaned into the touch for a moment thinking how good it felt to please her and how amazing she felt just being here with me. 

I shook myself out of my internal thoughts and added, “I’m going to use my fingers.  I don’t want you to move your legs, got it?”

She laughed a little and said, “What if I do move them?”

I looked up at her sternly replying, “If you move your legs from over my shoulders I’m going to be very disappointed in you.”

She blinked at me, frowning.  “What’s that-“

“Did I give you permission to talk?”

She sucked in a breath, catching on.  Her pale skin flushed even more and she shook her head quickly. 

“That’s right.  From now on you are only allowed to say my name.  Do you understand?”

She looked indecisive as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to play this game so I softened my expression and kissed the inside of her thigh.  “I won’t hurt you, Stormy.  You know I would never do that, right?”

She looked at me for a long moment, measuring my sincerity before she said in the most lustful and accepting voice I’d ever heard, “Josh.”

I pressed a smile to the soft flesh I had just kissed.  “That’s it, baby.  Now, where should I start?  Touch yourself and show me where I should put my mouth first.”

She opened her mouth to inhale a quick breath before she moved her hand from my hair and using her index and middle fingers she spread her plump lips apart revealing that little pearl of pleasure.  I pressed my nose to it and inhaled deeply.  Her voice was hoarse with want as she said my name and I once again sucked her into my mouth, scraping my top teeth across the sensitive bundle of nerves and then applying pressure with the tip of my tongue. 

My fingers found her entrance and I worked two inside of her, curling upward to rub against where I knew her most pleasurable spot was now.  Her fingers kept her sex parted while she panted my name and when she said, “Fuck. Oh fuck.”  I turned my head and nipped at the skin of her inner thigh in warning before licking at her again.  She yelped but caught on and she repeated my name louder and louder until I added a third finger and moved my forearm back and forth faster causing my fingers inside her to vibrate.

She came screaming my name, her back arched off of the bed and her legs tight around my head.  On a wave of emotion I pressed my hips to the scratchy material of the motel room comforter and came, her clit pulsing on my tongue as I groaned out my release.

Afterwards I crawled up into bed beside her and wrapped her in my arms, my limbs shaking from my climax and Stormy completely spent from hers.  I press a kiss to her shoulder and she turns her face to mine, her lips seeking and finding.  It was a gentle flow as our lips met and mated and I sighed into her mouth as she curled into me and we fell asleep sharing our warmth.

I woke up nearly an hour later to the tune of well, me.  I popped up on an elbow just in time to watch Stormy’s bare ass jiggle just the tiniest bit as she lunged for her discarded jeans.  I smiled as I realized she had me singing a song from a video I had made about a million years ago with Avan.  “Barka, barka, ding-“ I was cut off mid tune when she said in a breathy voice, “Hello?”

She cringed and rolled her eyes over at me, shrugging an apology before answering, “Yes, Cathy.  We’re heading there right now.”  She sits down on the edge of the bed and puts her face in one hand, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  Her hair is mussed and her skin still has a rosy glow fresh from sleep.  It may have been a nap but I wasn’t afraid to admit that I had slept better in this motel room for an hour that I had in my own bed back in Kentucky for the past two nights.  And I had a feeling it all had to do with the blonde currently yawning and reclining back on the bed.  “We just stopped for a minute to catch up.  We’ll be there soon.”  Her voice drops to a whisper and she says, “No I didn’t just get laid, jesus mom.”  She hangs up the phone and drops it beside her on the bed. 

I turn and crawl over to where she’s sprawled out a few feet down from me.  I place a kiss between her brows and rub my nose alongside hers.  “Did your mom just ask you if you got laid?”

Stormy closes her eyes and laughs in defeat and says, “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into by coming home with me.”

I grin down at her from above and wag my brows at her, “Let’s get this show on the road.  I can’t wait to meet the parents.”

“In a non-boyfriend capacity!”  She reminds me as I scramble off the bed and gather up my clothes. 

I affect a wounded look and stare over at her as she pulls her panties on and then steps into her jeans.  “Can I at least meet them as the guy that gives their daughter orgasms then?”

She laughs and puts her hands on her hips, “No.  You can meet them as my friend, Josh.  And you get to meet Tyler too.”

I nod as we both put on our shirts and coats and grab our personal effects from around the room.  “That’s right, the ex.  What time does he get in?”

She stops at the car and stares at me.  “Did I not tell you?”

I shake my head, “Tell me what?”

She groans and smacks her head against the car where the door meets the roof.  She looks back at me and responds, “He’s been here this whole time.”  I shot her a stunned look, not prepared for that.  She nods affirmatively, “he picked me up from the airport.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?  You didn’t tell me your boyfriend-“

“Ex!” she interjected as my voice rose.

“-picked you up from the airport, drove you an hour home and then stayed.  He’s staying there?  And none of this was important?”

She stared across the top of the car at me, her breath leaving her parted lips in white puffs.  Her lips slowly start to form a smile and then she unlocks the doors and slides in.  I mirror her actions and watch her face transform into a shit eating grin. 

“Why are you smiling?  This isn’t funny!”

But I can’t help it and my lips are curving at the edges in response.  She starts the car and cranks up the heater and then turns to me, “You’re jealous.”

My smile falls flat for a second and then I respond with a laugh, “You like that I’m jealous?”

She stops at a red light and turns to me, “Wait.  You really are jealous?”

I sigh and stare at her, “Just drive, woman.”

She goes on green, smiling the rest of the drive.  I turn to smile out the window.  Am I jealous?  Yes.  But I trust her.

It hits me suddenly that we aren’t even together.  Not really.  I swallow hard and continue to come to terms with this sudden realization as we pull up the shoveled drive to her parent’s house. 

Stormy practically vibrated with energy, performing a little dance up the sidewalk while I followed behind and appreciated the view.  These were the moment I lived for.  The little moments in time when she was her old carefree self.  She tossed a look over her shoulder and she laughed out loud as she made it to the door before me and held it open.  I stopped to kiss her in the doorway and she wrapped her arms around my neck to hold me to her longer. 

Stormy separated her lips from mine as a chill ran up her back alerting us to the fact that we were letting the heat out and I broke away from her long enough to place my bag right inside the door and then wrap an around her waist.  Stormy placed her sneakered feet atop my boots and held on tight as I shut the door behind us and walked us into the living room, taking great care to not stumble with her added weight.

The first person I saw was an older, blonder version of Stormy.  Cathy squealed delightedly and clapped her hands together, the bangles around her wrists setting off a tinkling sound and then she moved forward with her arms open wide, welcoming.  Stormy was caught off guard and trapped between us as her mom hugged me; including her daughter in the embrace. 

Then the older woman stepped back and looked me over.  “You are an amazing specimen.  Look at you.”  She winked and then shooed Stormy aside, “Go tell Bob your beau has arrived.  He’ll be so tickled to have another man in the house.”

Stormy stepped down and kissed the underside of my jaw before looking at her mom and warning her to behave.  Cathy just smiled and waved her away.

Once we were alone she took my by the hand and led me into the kitchen.  “We are so happy to have you here.  I hope we’re not stealing you from your family.  How was your Christmas?  Do you celebrate or are you a Jew?”

I laughed and held up my hands as I slid into a seat at the table.  “I’m glad to be here, thank you for having me.  And we don’t really identify religiously but we do celebrate Christmas.  How have your holidays been?  I’m sure you’re thrilled to see Stormy.”

Her mom smiled over at me and then winked and replied, “Stormy and Tyler have been getting reacquainted the last few days.”

Stormy rounded the corner and shot her mom a glare, “Quit lying.  I’ve barely spoken to Ty.”

“See, she’s even back to calling him Ty.”

I watch Stormy grin and bob her eyebrows at me before she steals a radish from a heap of vegetables on the counter.  I choke on air when she replies, “Sure.  But I was calling Josh “God” just an hour ago so I guess if you want to measure it by pet names, Josh wins.” 

Her dad came into the room then and grimaced, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”  He reached across the table and shook my hand.  “Nice meeting you, son.  I understand you’ve been enjoying my daughter’s company recently.”

I stared at him, unsure how to respond to that when I realized the whole kitchen was quiet.  Stormy cut the silence by laughing outright and patting her dad on the back.  “Probably not the best way to phrase that, dad.”

He blushed and muttered and I thanked him for his hospitality as he sat down a few chair from me.  Stormy grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and handed one to her dad before she came around the table to sit down to my right.  She slid a bottle in front of me before twisting the cap off of her own.  I was doing the same to mine when a dark haired man walked into the kitchen and pulled the chair out next to mine. 

He smiled and nodded at me.  “You’re Josh, right?”  he held his fist out for me to bump and I stared at it for a moment before committing to it and giving in.

I return, “You must be Tyler.”

He smiled a nice guy smile and I hated him instantly.  I felt Stormy’s hand creep onto my leg and then she squeezed my knee and I settled back in my seat.  I let out a slow breath and slid my hand under the table to cover hers and rub the back of her hand with my thumb, letting her touch soothe and calm me.

It was in the middle of dinner that we got the call. 

Stormy excused herself from the table and I followed after, making my way to the bedroom in the back of the house that I had yet to see.  I barely let it register that this was her childhood all packed into a single room before I sat beside her on the bed while she answered the call from the lawyer.  She put it on speaker and said, “Hi, Davis.  Any news?”

“We just got out of trial and I wanted to be the first to tell you he was found guilty on assault and battery and of course breaking the restraining order.  Adam has 6 to 8 months incarceration with the possibility of early release on good behavior.” 

Stormy looked at me like she wasn’t sure what she was hearing so I spoke up, “So he’s locked up?  Right now he’s locked up until at least June then?”

Davis gave a half laugh and said, “That’s exactly what I’m saying Mr. Hutcherson.  Ms. Seasons is safe for the time being.” 

Her face broke into a wide smile and she picked up the phone, “Oh, god, Davis.  Thank you so, so much.  For everything. Wow.”

The lawyer replied, “No problem.” And then bid us a happy holidays.  I watched Stormy hang up the phone and then she just stared down at it. 

“Storm?”

She turned to look at me, her top teeth scraping across her bottom lip as she thought.  “Does this mean I’m safe?”

I smile and pull her to my chest where she catches her breath and then lets out a loud choked sob.  She climbs further into my lap and clutches my shirt tight in her fists as she cries tears of relief.  I wrap my arms around her and hold her as close as humanly possible while she comes to terms with what she’s just learned.

She’s finally free.

And I hope she’s finally free to be with me.

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Stormy**

 

The original plan was to stay until Sunday and then head back to the west coast to bring in the New Year.  Those plans were dashed on Saturday afternoon when Josh and my dad went out into the woods to chop firewood.  Tyler was packing to leave and I stopped in the doorway of the spare room to talk to him.

“I’m sorry this trip wasn’t exactly the romantic weekend you were probably promised.”

Tyler sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, looking down at the floor between his feet.  “I wasn’t expecting it to be.  Not really.”  His brown eyes were thoughtful when he looked up at me.  “I’ve seen your picture everywhere.  I’ve seen you with him.”  He nods toward the window where my dad and Josh had disappeared out into the copse of oak trees.  “Does he know you love him?”

It was my turn to sigh and I did just that as I came into the room and sat beside him on the bed.  “I haven’t told him.”

“But you’re living together?”

Wincing, I reply, “I don’t know if you’d call it that.  I see it as a bunch of sleepovers.”

We’re both silent, both remembering the sleep overs we had of our own.  His voice is warm and husky when he says, “I’m sorry for how things ended between us.”

My eyes raise to his and I swallow because we’ve never had closure and I’m not sure I want it anymore.  “You don’t have to apologize, Ty.  We were young and stupid.”

“I knew what I was doing.”  He turns towards me and raises a hand, brushing my hair back from my face.  “When I found out you were leaving for L.A. I just got so mad.”  His thumb brushes against my cheek, soothingly.  “I felt like you were abandoning me.  Us.  I knew what I was doing was wrong but I wanted to hurt you before you hurt me.”

I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes, reliving the sharp stab of pain right in the middle of my spine from the metaphorical knife he had jammed in there.  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does, Storm.”  His breath is warm against my lips and I keep my eyes closed, the memory of his kiss too painful.  The memory of his kiss on another woman, my best friend to be exact, even more unbearable.  And then his lips touched to mine and after a brief moment of pressure, I pulled away because I couldn’t contain my laughter.

I can tell he’s hurt by the way he drops his hand to the side but I can’t stop and instead I shake my head and cover my mouth with my hands.  When our lips had touched, there had been no fireworks.  No spark of recognition.  It did not make me yearn for more.  I did not want to press deeper or go further. 

It was the exact opposite of what I felt when I kissed Josh.

My laughter was that of relief more than anything else.  I reach a hand out to him but it’s too late and he stands up, turning away from me.  “I hope he makes you happy.”  Then he picks up his bag and he’s gone. 

I sit there on the edge of the bed for a long time, thinking about the past, present, and the future. I’m still there, my mind on Adam and our past, when Josh peeks around the door.  He doesn’t question why I’m in here and not our room, he just plops down on the bed beside me and says, “Did you know your parents are growing?”

I lean into his side and wrap my arms around one of his biceps, appreciating the flex of muscle as I rest my chin on his shoulder.  “Growing what?”

“Weed!  Your parents have the most awesome stash I’ve ever seen.”

I pull back, my mouth open trying to find words.  Finally, I stand up and start out of the room.  “Mom!  Dad!  You have some explaining to do!” 

They’re in the kitchen, my mom mixing batter in a bowl.  I point to it and say, “Are you making brownies?”

She looks between my father and me.  “Yes.  Tyler’s gone and we’re having some people over tonight for a little get together.  I’m making brownies and Teena is bringing her famous chili.”

I blinked at my mom.  “Are we seriously having a hash dinner?”

Josh was quick to ask, “What’s a hash dinner?”

My mom and dad shared a look like they weren’t sure how to answer that because no one had ever asked them before.  Everyone they hung out with were stoners, productive functioning stoners, but Dead Heads none the less.

“Forget it.”  I shook my head and then brought us back around to what had brought me in here in the first place, “You told me you stopped growing!”

My dad looked at me funny, “We did, honey.  They just grow on their own now.”

“I thought you were going to clear out the plants though.  All of them!”

My mom and dad shared yet another look and then my mom said, “Well, we were going to.  They’re like my babies though.  I couldn’t rip them out of the ground and destroy all that hard work anymore than I could take your life after raising you for 17 years.”

I stared at them, shocked, “Did you just compare me to a few marijuana plants?”

“Field.”

I turn to Josh.  “What?”

He smiles like he just discovered the 8th wonder of the world.  “It’s a whole field of plants.  Budding plants!”

My jaw unhinges and I watch my parents shrug in response.  “You’re unbelievable.  Both of you.” 

They choose not to defend themselves further and I can’t quite blame them.  It is their property after all.  It just sucks that sometimes I feel like the parent. “We’re going out to eat tonight.  Behave.”

My dad comes to me and drops a kiss on my forehead while my mom waves the wooden spoon at me that she’s licking the batter off of.  “Have fun, children!”

I glare at her over my shoulder as we leave, “I should say the same.”

I navigated the darkening streets to a small family owned diner I had frequented from my childhood through my teenage years.  The sign over the worn concrete building projected a neon word across the slushed parking lot: “Sahr’s”.

“Is this our romantic night out?”

I grin over at Josh who is taking this way better than I thought when I remember he grew up in a small town himself when he wasn’t on the West Coast working through his childhood.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

He shakes his head and gets out of the car, holding a hand out for me.  I place mine in his and smile as he keeps hold of me, leading me to the glass door of the hole in the wall diner I’ve dragged us out to.  He holds the door for me and then we’re seated at a scarred wood table.  The menu is printed on a flimsy piece of paper, just like I remember.  Josh doesn’t think twice, he just peruses the list of food and orders a beer and the fried catfish with half a dozen sides.  I order the same and the smile he shoots me is genuinely pleased.  “I love it when a girl eats like a growing boy.”

I flick a sugar packet at him and he catches it.  “Really, though.  I like that about you.”

I raise my eyebrows in question.  “You like that I eat like a pig?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, tipping to balance on the rear legs of the wooden high back.  “I like that you have a healthy appetite.”

I wink at him and tap two fingers on the back of his hand.  “You like my insatiable appetite.”

He falls forward and is staring at me, refusing to look away when the beers are set down in front of us.  “I like everything about you.”

I’m shocked into silence by his admission, constantly caught off guard by the things he says to me.  “Josh.”  His name is a whisper on my lips and he catches my hand with his, lacing his fingers with mine on the table top.

“Stormy.”

I sigh into the dim lighting and watch his eyes grow darker and his features get softer as he relaxes.  Instead of ruining the mood by telling him I just can’t go there with him yet, I try for a lighter approach.  “So are you ready to bail out of here tomorrow?”

He winces and looks somewhere over my shoulder, not quite meeting my eyes.  “I was actually thinking we could stay here through New Year’s.” 

I tug on his hand, bringing his eyes back to what I know must be an incredulous look on my face.  “Why?”  I honestly can’t think of a better question.  I would rather be on the west coast, standing on the beach with my bare toes in the sand while fireworks burst across the sky over us.  I can see he really wants this though and he’s afraid I’ll deny him something as simple as just staying put for a few more days.  I wonder who in his past called all the shots or didn’t give him enough freedom since he seems to be testing some invisible line.

His whole upper body moves when he shrugs.  “I don’t know.”  He lets go of my hand and moves his arm to make room for his plate of food to be set down followed quickly by mine.  “I guess I just like it here.  I like your parents.  I like you.”

I take the lemon on the side of the plate and squeeze it over the battered filet.  “I like you too.  I guess I just thought you’d want to get home.”

He watches me spear a bite with my fork and then raise it to my lips and chew thoughtfully.  He watches me like he’s waiting for me to say “But” so I finally nudge him under the table with my foot on his and say, “No but’s.  No complaints.  If you want to stay, we stay.”

His smile is instant like he can’t believe I agreed to it. 

Do I want to spend New Year’s with my parents who take the opportunity every year at a quarter to midnight to strip down to their bare skin and dance in the frozen grass under the moonlight as the clock struck 12?  No.

But I decide as long as I’m with Josh, it doesn’t matter where we are when the ball drops.  And maybe I’ll talk him into stripping down and dancing in the back yard.  I can only imagine his nude body awash in the moon’s beams with no window as a filter.  It makes my heart pound and my palms sweat and I fidget.

He notices my reaction and says, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I tell him the same conclusion I’ve come to in my mind.  “As long as I’m with you, I’m more than okay.”

He lifts out of his seat and bends forward across the table and presses his lips to mine, catching me off guard.  He stays like that for a prolonged beat and then he sits back down.  “Thank you for that answer.”

I grin, rolling my eyes as we dig in to our food.

After eating we strolled through the frozen park half a block down.  I didn’t want to head home yet and I think Josh knew because he just wrapped an arm around me to share his body heat and kept his pace even with mine.  The trees and bushes all had twinkle lights wrapped around them and I remembered the present that still sat under the tree.  “My parents got you something for Christmas.”

He cleared his throat and shifted his arm, suddenly restless.  I turn to him and stop walking.  “What?”  He shakes his head and looks past my right ear, over my shoulder.  “Oh my god.  What did they get you?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

I snort at that.  Probably the biggest understatement ever uttered by him.  “It was either drug related or sex related.  Which one?”

His answer was a muffled word through his pressed together lips.  I lean forward and tilt my head, inviting him to repeat that a little louder.  “Sex, okay?”

I sigh and step up against him, resting my head against the soft leather of his winter coat.  “I hate them sometimes.”

He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair.  “I’m sure they mean well.”

My laugh was hollow.  I’m sure they did.  “Now that you’ve met them, do you still think your parents are unconventional?”

Josh’s laughter echoed through the night air.  “My mom and dad are pretty laid back, always have been.  But Cathy and Bob definitely take all the awards for Unconventional Parents of the Year.”

I press my face into his neck where his scarf has gaped a little.  “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have normal parents.”

Josh put his hands on my shoulder and stepped back, staring down at me, very serious.  “I think your parents love you very much.  They might do things a little differently but all in all, they’re pretty amazing.  You grew up to be the cool chick you are.  You wouldn’t be you if your parents were any different.”

I know he’s right but I pull a face anyways.  “I also probably wouldn’t need medical marijuana for anxiety attacks.  You know when I was 8, I came home from school and they weren’t home.  They left me a note though.  Stormy, dear, we got a call from some friends to stay at their cabin for the weekend so you have the whole house to yourself.  Have fun and don’t burn the house down.”

Josh’s mouth was wide open in shock, his breath coming out as puffs of steam.  It took him a full minute of silence and staring at me, probably trying to wrap his head around his own parents putting him in that situation, before he said, “What did you do?”

I shrugged and replied, “I literally ate only cold canned foods for three days because I was deathly afraid they had jinxed me and I was going to burn down the house.  I slept on the floor by the front door so I would know the second they got home.”  Josh grabbed me to him and held me there, rocking me back and forth as I finished by saying, “When they got home they began their nudist phase and for almost six months I lived with genitalia in my face.”  His body started to shake and I poked a finger into his side right about the waistband of his jeans.  “It’s not funny.  I’m mentally scarred, okay?”  His laughter was soft and warm next to my ear and I pressed my thighs together tight.  “Josh.”

His body stilled with the whisper of his name and he pulled back a little to look down at me.  His cheeks were flushed red from the cold and his lips parted, inviting.  I used my hold on his jacket to bring him as close to me as possible, pressing our bodies together from our knees to our hips and my breasts flattened to his chest.  I moaned into his mouth as his tongue sought out mine.  His hands tunneled through my hair, holding my head in place as he angled his lips and licked inside of me.  I rocked my hips into his and he said into my mouth, “I want you.”

The words were said and then swallowed by me as quickly as they left him.  I pressed our lower halves together more insistently and Josh grabbed my arm and broke away, his steps eating up the distance between where we were and where I had parked the car.  I gasped out, “Motel?”, as I rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s seat.  Josh didn’t bother answering.  His hands were ripping me out of my coat as I sat there shaking, body pumping with adrenaline at the thought that we were in full view of anyone entering or leaving the diner.  We weren’t directly under a street light but we weren’t exactly hidden either.  My shirt was up and my bra was exposed before I could even get his jacket unzipped. 

His head came forward and his teeth latched onto a swollen bud and I cried out, a double assault when his hand worked its way down the front of my jeans and into my panties.  He immediately flicked my clit with his middle finger and I panted as he played me, tapping and twisting, plucking and rubbing until not more than a minute had passed and I was coming, both of my hands wrapped around his wrist as I thrust against his skilled digits. 

He groaned, his mouth buried against my breast, and reached down even further to plunge a finger into my hungry channel.  I cried out at the sensation, his name loud in the closed confines of the car. 

He worked a second finger into my slick heat and I tried to reach for him again but his hoarse voice told me no and then he switched from one nipple to the other.  I rode his hand, his fingers filling that aching space deep inside me.  My second orgasm took me by surprise, sudden and swift.  Josh didn’t stop.  He was relentless in his pursuit as he said, “One more.  Just one more, Stormy.”  I shook my head no, unable to believe I was capable of giving any more, my body too sensitive as he continued his ministrations.  He locked his lips onto the curve of my neck, his free hand tweaking at my nipple, his erection pressed to the outside of my thigh. 

“Not until you come.”

Josh shook his head.  “It’s your turn.”

I shuddered out a breath and managed to say, “It was my turn last time.”  I grabbed at his hand and pulled it out from the front of my pants.  I raised his hand to my face and licked his fingers clean while he shut his eyes and groaned.  I sucked his middle finger into my mouth and made a small noise, my eyes slitting closed.  Josh huffed out a breath. 

“It’s always going to be your turn, Storm.”

I wove my tongue around and in between his fingers and then pulled his index finger in deep with the suction of my mouth, my cheeks hollowing out as I performed fellatio on his innocent digit.  I let him loose with a loud pop and said, “From now on I don’t come until you come.”

His eyes search mine, left to right and back again.  “Why?”

I pull back from him and stare at him in confusion.  “What do you mean why?  Do you mean why wouldn’t I want you to get off too?”  At his sharp nod I shake my head, “Who the fuck did you used to date, Josh?”

His eyes darted away from mine out the fogged up windshield.  The tightening of his jaw gave him away and I felt my lips pulling into a frown on his behalf.  I run one hand from the brown hair that hangs over his brows backwards and down to the back of his neck, ruffling the strands along the way.  His body relaxes into the touch, the tension seeping out of him. 

Using my hands, I direct him to lean back and then I lean over him and reach down between him and the door to find the lever to recline the seat.  Once that’s accomplished, I carefully shift my knees over the console and climb into his lap.  Each leg is tucked into the seat on the outside of his and my ass is resting close to his knees, the top of my head brushing against the microfiber material of the car’s roof liner.  My hands made quick work of his belt, button and zipper.  I batted his hands out of the way a few times as he tried to slow me down.  Finally I said, “Josh, I’m going to wrap my hands around your cock and make you come.  I want to hear you say my name just like I say yours.  Are you going to sit there like a good boy and let me have my way with you or are you going to stop me?”

He looked stunned at my outpouring of words and held his hands up in surrender. 

I grinned and bit my lower lip, feeling victorious.  I pushed his jeans down with his help as he raised his hips and then I undid the tiny plastic button at the front of his boxers and pulled his semi erect dick through the opening of fabric.  With my right hand I held his shaft firmly and with my left I reached down the front of my jeans and ran my fingers through my folds to my opening.  Josh’s eyes had popped wide open as he watched where my hand had disappeared to.  “Oh, shit.”  His reverent words made me moan and tilt my hips forward.  I dipped two fingers inside and collected the moisture from my earlier orgasm.  I pulled my hand from my pants and winked at him before wrapping my slick hand around his cock.  “Oh, god, Stormy.”  He panted my name as he reared up from beneath me.  I wrapped one hand over the other and slid my hands up and down his length.  My core wept for him and while I understood why he refused to have sex with me, I couldn’t understand why he thought my pleasure was more important than his.

In relationships, even strictly sexual ones, it was based on equality.  In my mind, I took as much pleasure from getting my partner off as I did getting off myself. 

It was with the thought in my mind that giving Josh an orgasm was worth forfeiting my own, that I somewhat understood where he was coming from.  I still wondered who in his past had made him feel as though their pleasure was more important.  Whomever it was, hadn’t deserved Josh as a lover. 

My hands twisted on an upstroke and I dragged my thumb up the edge of his head, pressing on the tight skin under the slit.  His hands were on my hips, holding on as he arched his back.  He panted my name and thrust into my grip.  I swiped a fingertip across his velvety head and swirled it around while I jerked him off and my other hand dropped lower to his boxers.  I pushed his jeans down as far as they would go with where I was anchored and I reached my hand up the leg of his boxers. 

His thigh tightened under my palm and I gave the muscle a brief squeeze before traveling further upward until I could cup his heavy sack in my hand.  I rolled the two around with the dexterity of my fingers, applying the gentlest of pressure.  The words pouring out of his mouth were unintelligible, his eyes were closed tight, his top teeth dug into his bottom lip and his hips pistoned beneath me.  I imagined him inside me and shifted my ass until I could feel the faintest friction of his jean clad knee against my clit.

With every thrust upward, I shifted to the side and the seam of my jeans rubbed me in the exact right place.  I tightened my hand around his dick, crying out with every shift of his hips.  At my initial mewl, his eyes opened to watch me and he must have realized what I was trying to do because his hands moved to the front of my jeans and had them undone with my panties pushed aside in no time.  He urged me forward and I let go of him to crouch in the tight space to push my jeans down.  It took some maneuvering but I got them off over one of my high tops and decided that was enough wasted time. 

I sat back down on his knees and he grabbed my hips and aligned me with his erection.  His thrust upward struck along my clit and I fell forward to roll my hips against him.  “Oh, fuck.”  I reached between us and pushed my panties to the side, the slick glide of his shaft against my core had my knees shaking.

“I’m going to come, Stormy.”

I nodded and urged him on.  “Come for me, baby.  I want to hear you say my name.”

His eyes dropped down from mine to where we slid against each other.  He watched as my fingers played with my folds, my nails brushing across my clit, and then I grabbed him tight in my hand and pressed him against me and came, pulsing against the head of his dick.

Josh’s voice was rough as he squeezed my hips in his palms and followed after, arching up under me, my name a yell into the frosted interior of the car.

I collapsed on top of him, freefalling forward, too tired to stop myself and uncaring about where I landed.  Luckily, Josh was pretty solid and my face bounced against his chest and then settled.  I tried to get my breathing under control and my hand was still wrapped around his dick, still pressed to the center of me, and we both shook in the aftermath. 

**Josh**

I moved my hands from her hips to wrap them around her and pull her close, our breath sawing in and out in almost perfect synchronization.

She turns her head to me and places a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.  I smile in the dark interior of the car and turn my lips to find her.  I brush against her softly, just a whisper of a caress and she sucks in a breath and says, “Stop playing with me.”

I can’t help but laugh and give her a loud, playful kiss.  She pulls back a little and looks down at me.  “I love that you love to please me.”  I wait for her to go on, unsure where she’s heading with this talk although I don’t deny her words.  Of course I derive pleasure from giving her orgasms.  What kind of asshole would I be if I just took what I wanted?  I had always been a generous lover and while I had been ridiculed in the past for being too emotional during sex, it wasn’t like I sobbed each time I came.  I just felt bad if I couldn’t give a girl at least two orgasms.  It was a personal goal and one I was proud of.  Stormy was watching me for a reaction but continued by saying, “but I love to please you too, okay?”

I thought about her words.

I was in love with Stormy.  I knew that was why I derived so much pleasure from her getting off.  The emotional ties I had to this beautiful creature only enhanced every action I performed.  If the same was true for her and she was in love with me, maybe she just didn’t know it yet.  I brought her face to mine and kissed her with every word I couldn’t say and every emotion I couldn’t afford to let show. 

She reciprocated and our lips melded together until we were both breathless and tired. 

When she looked at me again, I could tell she was aware of what I felt.  She had probably known for a while.  It didn’t matter though.  She accepted it as it came and she ran her fingers down the side of my face and said, “We should head back.”

I watched her smile and press her lips to my shoulder as if hiding there.  And I knew she felt the same way.

There were extenuating circumstances and I would wait for her for as long as possible.  I had already waited a lifetime.

We pulled up to her house and she parked down the street to keep the driveway clear for the cars that were parked in neat little rows.  I counted four extra.  “So what is this hash dinner they’re having?”

“Teena’s chili.  It’s made with a very potent hallucinogen.”

“Wait.  Hash as in weed?  Your parents are having friends over to eat and get high?”  I clapped and bent at the waist, laughing as we stood on the porch.  Stormy elbowed me in the side and pushed past me to open the door. 

What we walked in on was totally surreal and I felt like I had just walked into an opium den.  There was the thick aroma of Nag Champa burning, wisps of smoke rising from incense holders set all around the room.  There were two ladies I had never seen before in flowing dresses dancing around the living room.  All the furniture had been pushed to the side and Cathy was in the corner making bird noises while flapping her arms and Bob proceeded to sway side to side in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs while he emitted a howling noise and followed it up with a baritone, “Caw! Caw!”

My jaw was literally unhinged as I looked from one couple to another and then over at Stormy.  Her eyes were wide in disbelief and she looked over at me and I was the first to laugh.  It was a mixture of nerves and the hilarity of the situation and I was almost afraid I was being Punk’d again.

Stormy’s eyebrows rose up her forehead as she stared at me and then she was laughing too and leaning into me.  “Oh god, I forgot all about this part.”

I tried to catch my breath but it was near impossible and tears started to gather in my eyes as I put an arm around her.  “You mean this has happened before?”

Stormy attempted a nod but could barely stand up straight and her hands wiped at her wet eyes.  I looked up at the occupants of the room but no one even paid us attention.  I shook my head in wonder and led Stormy through the living room to the kitchen, her hand in mine.  When we were clear of the chaos, we both looked at one another and started laughing again.  “I’m sorry.”  Her apology was half gasp and the other half giggle.

I grinned back at her and shrugged.  “Not your fault.”

She motioned toward the back of the house where the bedroom was.  “Why don’t we-“

“Josh!”  Her dad swung an arm around me and pulled me in for a side hug.  “Josh, my future son in law.  The future father of my grandchildren.  How are you doing tonight, young man?”

His words were bright and cheerful and I couldn’t help but smile.  “Probably not as good as you, sir.”

“Ah, call me Bob!”

I looked to Stormy who just laughed and moved around the kitchen to the fridge to grab a couple of beers.  “Okay, Bob.”

“That’s better.”  He looked from me to his daughter and said, “Isn’t that better?  Now that we’re all on a first name basis?”

Stormy twisted the caps off the bottles and handed me a Newcastle.  “That’s great, dad.  Bob.  Sergeant Stoner.  Now can I have Josh back so we can retreat to our room?”

Bob gave me a hearty pat on the back and said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a little father-son talk with your gentleman caller.”  I looked at Stormy for help but she shrugged as if saying, “You chose to stay instead of head back west, welcome to my fucked up life.”

I followed Bob to what was a sunroom during the day.  As we walked down the hall he called back over his shoulder, “Grab those brownies, why don’t ya, Stormy!”

I watched her pick up the tray of thick chocolate squares and then turned back ahead, listening to her dad ramble on about how he met Cathy at a Beatles concert.  He boasted about how he had stolen her away from Ringo Starr.  The story was so farfetched I couldn’t help but nod in reply even though I was sure he believed every single word.

I sat on a huge wicker chair with a cushion so deep I sunk down into its depths while Bob did the same and sat in the one beside me.  Stormy set the brownies between us and said, “Don’t have more than one.” 

I stared at her like she was the dessert Nazi.  “I love brownies.”  My lower lip was probably stuck in a pout and she leaned down and kissed me just as her phone rang. 

She took it out of her back pocket and checked the readout.  She smiled brilliantly at me and said, “It’s Suzanne!”  Then she was answering it and excitedly greeting her friend as she moved out of the room.  Just as my hand reached for a brownie she stuck her head back in and said, “I’m serious.  You can only have one.”

I made a face at her and bit into the soft chocolate cake-like substance and groaned.  She was crazy if she thought I was only going to be able to eat just one.  Then Bob started talking about the good old days, and as a sucker for listening to people reminisce about the 60’s and 70’s, I fell into an easy conversation with him. 

**Stormy**

I had heard back from Suzanne the day after I moved back into my apartment one very long week and a half ago.  She had drowned her phone in the washing machine and had turned into a recluse to work on a new project, not thinking about the outside world trying to get in touch with her.  I had confessed to her that I thought maybe I was just a liability that she couldn’t handle having in her life to which she had immediately come over and we had spent that whole night talking about everything. 

Since then we had kept in touch and returned to our usual relationship of texting and calling each other.  Tonight she had called to see how Christmas had gone and to invite me out for New Years.  I told her I was still in Machias and Josh had wanted to stay here for the celebration.  I laid down on my bed and we talked for nearly an hour before I remembered Josh being talked to death by my dad.  “Oh, shit.  I left Josh with Bob.  I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Okay, sweetie.  I’m here if you need me and I’ll talk to you when you two get back.  Give Josh a hug from me.”

“I definitely will.  I’ll talk to you later.”  I hung up and tossed my phone to the side of my bed and rolled off onto my feet.  I made my way down the hall to the sunroom, but when I peeked my head around the corner, Bob was sitting in the lotus position in his chair meditating or sleeping, I couldn’t tell.  Josh was not there.

“Bob?”  I whispered his name, not wanting to pull him out of his sacred place or wherever he went when he meditated.  He cracked one eye open at me and I waved toward the empty chair to his right.  “Where’d Josh go?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then made some type of arm movement.  I stared at him, waiting for any more information. 

“Wow.  Thanks.  You’re so helpful.”  He made a walking motion with his fingers and then pretended to pour a cup of something and chug it.  “He went to get a drink?”  At his insistent nod, I looked down at the half empty plate of brownies and sucked in a breath.  “How many of those brownies did you eat, Bob?”  He grinned and made a circle with his thumb and index finger indicating a big fat zero.  “God dammit!” 

I turned from the room and jogged down the hall to the kitchen.  Josh stood in the center of the kitchen staring towards the sink that was about 4 feet away from him.  He had a brownie in his fist, the soft cake squeezing out of the sides of his hand.  He was very still and I said his name softly from the doorway.

“Shh.”  His voice was a hiss and he held up the hand that didn’t have a snack cake in it.  “It’ll hear you.”

I looked around the kitchen cautiously.  “What’ll hear me?”  I kept my voice low like his.

“The unicorn.  You don’t want to scare it away.”  He reached a hand out, patting at the air in front of him.  “It’s so beautiful.”  His voice carried so much awe and then he raised his fistful of brownie to his mouth and took a huge bite.  “It loves brownies too.  Don’t you buddy?”  He sprayed crumbs as he spoke and then he tossed a piece of it at the empty space in front of him, watching as it arced in the air and then fell to the floor with a splat.  “Aw.”

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from giggling.  “Maybe he doesn’t like brownies after all.”

Josh took a giant, sudden step back and said, “Woah!”  He turned to me and then back to the imaginary mystical creature.  “It tried to bite me!”  He takes another ravenous mouthful of brownie and then looks over his shoulder at me, “These are so good but what’s that aftertaste?”

I cringed and said, “Uh, how many of those have you had?”

Josh giggles and the sound is a little crazed as he replied, “A bunch.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh, “I thought I told you one!”

He snickers and licks his hand before wiping it on the thigh of his jeans, leaving a dark brown smear on his leg.  “I was hungry.”  He takes a step towards me and smiles, his teeth smeared with chocolate and he puts his arms around me.  He sinks a lot of his weight into the hug and says in a wistful tone, “I really like you.”

He can’t see my face because he’s nuzzling my neck but I bite into my lower lip to hold my laughter at bay.  Josh is super baked and I can’t believe he didn’t realize the chili wasn’t the only thing that was laced.  “I like you too, Josh.  Now why don’t we get you to bed?”

He lets me lead him down the hall and as we pass the sunroom he yells out at the top of his lungs, “I love you, Bob!”

I bark out a laugh and keep pulling him after me even as I hear my dad say, “You the man, Josh!” in a loud bellow.

I finally wrangle him into bed, fully clothed and stoned out of his gourd.  He pulls me down on top of him and tries to whisper but it comes out as just a really garbled version of his regular tone, “You’re my girl.”

I curl into him and trace his lips with my fingers.  “Does that mean you’re my guy?”

He giggles in a high pitched fashion and I duck my face to hide my wide smile.  “Do you want me to be your guy?”

I can hear the laughter in his voice and I reply, “Always, Josh.  I want you for always.”

“Always is a long time.”  He suddenly sounds very sober and I glance up at his face from where my chin rests on his right pec.  His eyes are darting around the room and then he reaches up with one hand and tries to grab at something in the air.  “Do you ever see all the words you want to say just floating over your head sometimes, but don’t have the balls to say them?  They’re just hanging out up there, waiting for you to use them up.”  He flaps his arm around above us and then continues, “Like sometimes I want to tell you how I really feel but then you look at me and I just can’t.  I don’t want to pressure you.”

My breath is caught in my chest and I say, “It’s okay, Josh.”

I know what he means and in that moment I am outside of us, looking in at our half assed relationship.  Do I make it harder for him by hanging around?  Would it be easier on both of us if I quit pretending I could be a normal person with him?

He grumbles something and I rub my hand down the front of his white tee to the tattoo on his hip right below his waist band.  I stroke across the skin there and he says softly, “You’ve never asked me about her.”

His voice is slow like molasses and I can tell he’s settling into the high and finding his groove, riding out the psychedelic trip.  I respond with, “I figured you’d tell me about her if you wanted.”  The intricate cross rode low enough on his left hip that you wouldn’t see it unless you were intimate with him or you somehow caught him with his pants down.  The name Lizzy was scrawled in feminine script through the cross bar.

“Lizzy was my light.  I put her name on me to honor her memory and to never forget the promise I made her.”

His voice was very deep and I felt his throat constrict.  I swallowed, tears gathering because his words struck a chord somewhere inside me like he fought to get them out.  “What happened to her?”  The question floated out and lingered around us for a very long time. 

He got completely quiet and I was sure he was sleeping when his hand dropped to where mine was still pressed against the ink.  He laced his fingers with mine and pressed them tighter to his hip before saying, “I can’t talk about her quite yet.”

I nod into his shirt and raise my head to press my lips to his jaw.  “I’m here if you ever decide you can.”

He holds me a little closer and sighs my name and then I feel him relax fully into sleep.  I wonder who Lizzy is and what she was to him but more than anything, I can’t help but feel like at that very moment she’s in the room with us and I whisper, “Hi.”

I feel a hand join ours where they’re linked together over the tattoo and I smile.  “I’ll take good care of him.”

Then the pressure is gone and the room feels empty besides the sound of Josh’s soft breathing.  I don’t know why but I close my eyes and say, “Promise.” As if she’s still in the room.  As if she can hear me and understand me.

For all I know she can. 

And then I let Josh’s even breathing lull me into sleep.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Stormy**

I sit beside a very quiet Josh on our flight home to the west coast.  It’s now 2014 and I’m looking forward to a fresh start.  A new year, a new me.

Josh, however, looks a little worse for wear.  After his recovery from the brownie incident he swore to only eat prepackaged foods that he was sure couldn’t be tampered with.  Last night, New Year’s Eve, he had watched in fascination from the tall windows in the sun room as my parents stripped down to their bare skin and danced around a bonfire in the moonlight. 

“They aren’t even high, are they?”  His voice was filled with wonder as they made crazy animal noises like they belonged in the wild and I leaned against him, playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“As far as I know they are completely sober.”  I grinned as my mom raised her hands up to the sky and started chanting nonsense.  It sounded like the words to Yellow Submarine.  I bit my lip and then elbowed him.  “Wanna join them?”

Josh had looked down at me as if I had lost my mind.  “Not especially.  No.  I don’t want to go run around with your totally nude parents.”

My hand traveled from the front of his shirt down to the button and zipper of his well-worn jeans.  “Then why don’t we get naked and do our own little dance?”

He let me lead him to my bedroom where we stayed up far into the morning, exploring each other’s bodies and bringing in the New Year in the best way, our bodies awash in the moonlight as we writhed against each other.

Now we are on our way home and the look of worry on his face grows the closer we get to the west coast.  Finally I can’t stand the silence or the pressure building between us, “Okay, what’s going on?”

He looks over at me, eyebrows raised as if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, waiting for me to expand on my question.

I wave a hand between us, stirring up the air.  “Why do you look like that?  Like you’re afraid to tell me something.”

His sigh is long and deep felt as he runs a hand across his forehead.  “I don’t really want to have this conversation right now.”  Due to our last minute change in plans, Josh hadn’t been able to schedule a private flight home so we had driven the hour to Buffalo and boarded a commercial flight.  We are sitting in coach, Josh with the hood of his sweatshirt up and his Reds cap shielding most of his face from passengers around us. 

I stare at him hard, not willing to cause a scene but unable to get the thought out of my head that it must be horrible. The only time people say they don’t want to talk about something in public is when there is bad news and I’d rather be surrounded by total strangers to buffer the conversation than alone with him where I can’t hide.  I’ve started to shake at the thought of what he wants to tell me.  Was he going to ask me to move out?  Had I gone too far asking about Lizzy?  Did he hate my parents?  I could feel the worry start to stiffen my muscles and if I could have unclenched my jaw I probably would have screamed at the top of my lungs just to get rid of some of the anxiety building up.

Instead, I clench my fists tight and let the tears prick behind my eyes.  The noise in my throat catches and festers until I lean forward and bury my fists against my mouth, pressing the soft flesh of my lips into the hard edges of my teeth.  Josh immediately follows me down, his arms coming around me as he covers me with his body.  I can tell he instantly knew what was happening and I try to focus on his voice as he softly said, “Breathe, Stormy.  Come on.  Breathe through it.”

“Sir, is everything okay over here?”

Josh’s voice is smooth as he says, “Just a little anxiety attack.  She’ll be fine in just a second.”

My body is trembling with restraint as I gnash my teeth together and squeeze my eyes shut.  I am trying to breathe but the more I panic the more my head starts to pound in my ears and the less I can focus on Josh. 

I barely make out the stewardess as she exclaims, “Sir, you’re going to have to get her under control.”

And then I clearly hear Josh’s reply, “Are you serious?  If you would go AWAY I might be able to calm her down.”  And then his voice is right beside my ear as he says, “Listen to me, baby.  Everything is okay.  I need you to listen to my voice and find me. Can you do that?  Can you find your way to me?”

I jerk my head up in what I hope resembles a nod and not just a miniature seizure. 

I hear him speak over his shoulder, “Lady, I need you to back away from me, right now.”

An audible gasp follows and then he surrounds me again, pressing his lips to the soft skin behind my ear whispering my name soothingly.  “Stormy.  Stormy I need you to listen to me baby.  Just listen to me.  Did you know the day we met at Lucky Devil’s for dinner I thought of you in the shower?  I thought about you kneeling in front of me, your hands and your mouth on me.  I closed my eyes and pretended you were there with me, your gorgeous lips were wrapped around me and I came the hardest I had ever come before.”  His breath is warm as he chuckles against the shell of my ear, my heart slowing as I focus on his words trying to string the sentences into a story, imagining him in the shower.  My breathing is ragged for another reason now.  I clutch at the arm of his sweatshirt, twisting the material in my hand and he says in a low, rough voice, “I want your lips wrapped around me.  I want to feel your mouth sucking and licking and I want to come against the stroke of your tongue.”

I gulp air on a sharp breath and whisper, “Fuck.”

Josh’s lips turn upward against my neck as he laughs softly, “Yeah.  I want that too.”

It takes a moment for the double meaning to hit me and then I giggle, the sound catching in my throat. 

His hand strokes through my hair as his lips press kisses over and over against the same spot on my neck until finally he asks, “Are you okay?”  I lean my head to his shoulder and nod.  He sighs and with my face buried in the material of his hoodie he leans back, straightening us both out of our crouch.  The stewardess is staring down at me, her eyes narrowed as if she’s suspicious of our behavior.  Josh keeps my head tucked close to him and then he glances up and says, “She’s fine, thanks for your concern.”

Through the fall of my blonde hair I watch her roll her eyes and walk away.  Josh grunts in disgust and the lady across the aisle leans toward us, “Is she okay?  My daughter gets the same thing.  Panic attacks, right?”

I raise my hand up in a small, tired wave without looking in her direction as Josh answers, “Yeah.  She’s good.  Thank you.”

I can tell there’s a small smile in her voice as she responds, “Well, not all of us get a stick shoved up our asses at five thousand feet.”

Josh barks out a laugh and his chest shakes with mirth against my cheek.  My body is liquefied and I’m trembling from the stress of the attack, slowly sinking into sleep against the vibrations of his voice as he continues the conversation with the woman beside us.  The last thing I hear is her comment, “I know who you are, but your identity is safe with me.” And Josh replying, “You just made me feel like Batman.”

I wake up, startled out of slumber, as Josh reaches over to buckle me in, the small indicator light above us lit in warning.  “Josh?”

He places a kiss against my lips and then finishes getting me secured before attending to his own safety.  “We’re about to land.  It’s okay.”  It doesn’t take long before the plane touches down and we taxi on the runway.  Josh turns to me as people start to fill the aisles and says, “Are you going to be okay?”  He is letting everyone else off before us, staying seated as he talks to me. 

“I think so.”

His eyes are understanding and his voice holds a wealth of emotion as he brushes my hair from my face.  “I just wanted to make sure.  I don’t know if there will be paparazzi and I don’t want a repeat of what happened on here.” 

He stands and then waits for me to gather myself before he leads us off the plane and through the terminal.  We make it to baggage claim, Josh walking a few steps ahead of me in case he’s spotted.  When we stop at the luggage carousel I halt close to him and slip my hand into his.  He looks at me curiously and I shrug.  “I don’t care what they think, Josh.”  Slowly, I start to realize maybe he does and I begin loosening my hold.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t-“

His fingers tighten against mine and he pulls me in for a soft kiss.  “I just want to protect you.  I like this though.”  And he squeezes my hand with his and kisses me quickly again.

We make it out of the airport with no complications and arrive home in record time.

Driver meets us at the door, excitedly dancing around our feet, and I pull up short at what looks like Andre in a meeting at the kitchen island.  Josh clears his throat and asks me if I’ll take Driver out back and sensing the need for privacy, I agree.  I grab a clear plastic tube of tennis balls and smile nervously at the four men in the kitchen before escorting the dog out ahead of me.

We play fetch for a bit and we sit by the koi pond and watch the fish in fascination, Driver barking at the wriggling objects every so often.  I place an arm around him and lean my face into the short, wiry fur at his neck and sigh.  I missed him a lot and I realize he’s a part of my family now.  He whines and then turns his neck to lick my face and I shove him away gently, laughing.

I’m not sure how long we stay outside but when Josh comes out he is frowning.  I stand up from the lounge chair I had settled in to watch Driver run laps along the fence and ask, “What?  What is it?”

He motions for me to sit again and I unceremoniously drop back down.  Finally he sits at the other end of it , placing my feet in his lap, and starts, “I have to leave in a couple of weeks to start filming over in Africa.”  His voice is low and apologetic and I watch him for any other forthcoming information.  When he continues to look at me expectantly I tilt my head in confusion.

“That’s it?”  At Josh’s stunned look I chuckle.  “You had me freaking out because you have to go back to work?  Josh, that’s your life.  That’s what you do.  Why are you worried about me?  I can stay here with Andre and Driver and I’ll be fine.”

“Andre actually goes with me.  He’s my personal assistant.”

I stare at him open-mouthed and then I laugh out loud.  “Andre is your personal assistant?  Does he actually do what you tell him?”

Josh smiles and shakes his head, “Of course not.”

I get what he’s saying but I’m still not sure why it’s such a big deal.  “Okay, so you and Andre are both heading out of the country.  Are you taking Driver?  Are you kicking me out?  I don’t understand how you expect me to feel about this.”

He looks thoughtful as he reaches over and takes both of my hands into his, his thumb brushing against my knuckles.  “I guess I’m not used to girls like you.”

I smile and cock my head to the side, “Girls like me?”

He shrugs and matches my grin with his own.  “Sane ones, I guess.”

I scoot forward, bringing my knees into contact with his and rest my forehead to his shoulder.  “You have to work Josh.  So do I.  Do what you do.  You’ll have days off and we’ll talk.  We’ll resort to writing letters if we have to.  We’ll be fine.”

He lets go of me and urgently places his hands on either side of my face, angling my head back to look down at me seriously, excitement coloring his words.  “Is there a “we”, Stormy?”  As my eyes search his, right to left to right, I bite down hard on my lip knowing what he wants to hear and unable to say it.  He sees the answer in my eyes and closes his on a wave of disappointment I can actually feel.

“Josh, please, I can’t-“

He opens his eyes and nods, “I know.  Not yet.”

I sigh, frustrated with myself.  “I wish I could just let go.  I want you so bad.”  I return the gesture, placing my palms to his cheeks, “I do, Josh.  I really do.  I just need time.”  My breath stops in my chest and I choke back the anger that wells up inside of me.  “It’s too soon.  It’s just too soon.  I can’t.”  I watch his expression even out as he listens to my pleading. 

“It’s okay.  I know.”  He grabs me close and holds me.  I shake my head against his chest.  He pulls back and looks down, his lips frowning.  “What?”

I sit back and shake my head more firmly.  “I can’t do this, Josh.  You need your freedom.”

“I don’t want it!”

“Josh.  Stop.  Listen to me, please.”  His face is flushed from his outburst.  “We can’t keep doing this.  It’s not fair.”

“Don’t decide what I can and can’t do, Stormy.  I want you, whatever way I can have you.”

I shake my head again as I say warningly, “Josh.”

“Until I leave then.  Give me these last two weeks.”  I open my mouth to argue and he places a finger to my parted lips, effectively shutting me up.  “Two weeks.  That’s all I’m asking.  When I leave to start filming we’ll go our separate ways.”

I study him closely and am surprised that he seems to be totally at ease with this idea.  “And when you come back?”

“We’ll see where we are then.”

I lick my lips, thinking, watching for any hint of distress from him.  I nod slowly, “Okay.” He blows out a deep breath and then smiles.  I can’t help but smile back.  “Fine.  You win.”

He lets out a celebratory whoop and wraps his arms around me, standing up and carrying me towards the house.  “I love winning.”

My legs are wrapped around his waist and I press my cheek to his as I giggle.  His excitement is catching and when he finally dumps me on the bed I squeal and kick off my shoes, my hands fumbling with my jeans, racing to get them off.  He pushes his own jeans down, his boxers heading south as well. 

My breath hitches in my throat as I pause in my actions, instead caught up in the beauty of his body.  His lean waist, the short trimmed hair that rests at the base of his shaft.  The dark hair covering his thick, strong thighs that tapers with muscular definition.  His calves that bunch one at a time as he lifts first his right and then his left leg to shake his pants off.

He looks up at me when he notices I’ve stopped stripping.  “What?”  His smile is wide and I automatically return it with one of my own. 

I hurriedly shuck off my pants and then hold my arms out for him.  I see him stiffen just a moment and then he shakes off whatever reserves he suddenly has and crawls across the bed towards me.  I grab at the hem of his shirt and strip it up and off him as he finishes divesting me of my clothes.

Once we’re both naked he settles his weight on top of me, his cock semi hard and pressing into my thigh.  His voice is soft with emotion when he says, “I leave on the twelfth.”

I suck in a breath and look up at him from where I lay beneath.  “We have eleven days to say good-bye.”

I watch his eyes cloud and he ducks down to rest his face against my neck, his lips soft as a whisper as he says, “I don’t want to say good bye.”  And then he shifts his hips to the left and the head of his cock rubs against my entrance.  I clutch at his back, my fingernails sinking into sinew and skin and I whimper with the teasing sensation.

I lift my hips and slowly groan as he moves his lower body away from mine, leaving me empty again.  His hand replaces his cock and I watch as determination flashes across his face just before he plunges his fingers inside of me.  I arch up and say his name, my teeth latching on to his shoulder and bearing down.

“Fuck me, Stormy.”

I moan on the captured flesh in my mouth, my eyes rolling back as I pump my hips against his wrist. 

“That’s it, baby.  Just like that.”  His words spur me on and one of my hands lower to grip a rounded globe of his ass.  I hang on as I surge wildly against his digits, Josh panting my name in time to my thrusts.

His name explodes from me on a shout as I curve my ass into the mattress, changing the angle.  My breath heaves out of me as his fingers curl inside and I come, my nails digging in deep, shuddering and exhaling a sob.  I release his skin from the clench of my teeth as I press my head back into the mattress and begin to cry.  Josh pulls back from me to search my face.  My hands drop to my wet cheeks and I shake my head, unable to form words.

“Stormy?”  His fingers slid out of me and he swipes his hand across the sheet before pushing my hair back from my face.  I shake my head and turn from him, my chest shaking with the movement of holding everything in.  His voice is sad as he says, “You can tell me, Stormy.  Just tell me.”

My words are choked when I stutter out, “I can’t.  I can’t do this.  I thought I could.”

I drop my knees from his waist and turn my body, attempting to scoot out from under him but he keeps me caged.  Not threatening me with his weight or holding me down in any way, but his arms stay on either side of me and I curl into one muscular forearm and press my hot face against it.  I am openly crying, the intensity of my sobs jerking my body back and forth, and I hear him whisper with pent up emotion, “What’s different now?  What’s changed since we got home?”

Even though I cling to him, I say in a weak cry, “Let me go.  Just please let me go.”

Misunderstanding me, he deftly moves his arm and drops to the bed behind me, feet of empty space between us.  I push myself up from the bed and stumble towards the bathroom.  I quietly shut the door behind me and slide down the wall to the smooth tile.  I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead down on them and cry. 

**Josh**

I had watched her freeze beneath me, a small part of me breaking as she recoiled into herself.  When she said she couldn’t do this I knew what she meant. I was having a hard time with it myself.

Before we hadn’t had guidelines, we were just having fun for the sake of enjoying ourselves.  Now we had a time frame and after that time was up we would be over as well.

It hurt my heart to think of spending time away from her.  The meeting in my kitchen had been about the time frame in which we’d be filming and if it was possible for me to get a sublet instead of a hotel room because I could ask her to go east with me and stay in Africa for 8 weeks.  She was working on the sequel of her book and she could do that just as easily from whatever country we ended up in.

My idea had been shot down due to cost and I silently cursed myself for taking on a movie for the adventure instead of the pay.  It was considered a Disney production but that meant nothing since my contract had already been printed and signed six months prior.

I lay on my back in bed and listen to her muffled sobs on the other side of the bathroom door, tears blurring my vision and burning paths down the sides of my face to gather at my temples as they rolled down.  My throat was tight as I swallowed.  I know I should go to her.  I know I probably had the words inside me to make it all better.  I just can’t bring myself to do it.  I was tired of dancing around the subject.  A small part of me is angry and bitter and I can’t control it any longer.  If I’m not good enough for her, for her to even try to pick up the pieces, then what kind of fool am I to hang around?

I am the worst kind of fool.  A fool in love.

My eyes are squeezed shut when she comes out of the bathroom and her steps are soft as she makes her way to the side of the bed.  My breathing has settled and my heart tells me to open my arms and let her in, but my mind is tired of being fucked with so I do nothing.  I don’t bother extending an invitation for her to join me.  Maybe I’m punishing her but I’m hurting myself too.  She has to know that.

Her voice is tired as she says, “I’m going to sleep in the spare room tonight.  I’ll leave in the morning if that’s okay.”

I don’t bother looking at her, directing my words to the darkness behind my eyes I lift my fingers in a dismissive wave, “Do whatever’s best for you Stormy.  You always do.”

I feel her eyes on me, feel the hitch in her breath echo through me and squeeze my heart painfully and then I hear her gather her clothes from the floor and walk out of the room.  I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and let the tears fall.   I have eleven days to get over her.  It’s for the best.  I have to tell myself that over and over to make myself believe it.

I wake up the next morning to an empty house.  I rub the backs of my hands across my swollen, sleepy eyes and make it to the kitchen long enough to grab a cup of coffee.  I shuffle back down the hall to my bedroom, my eyes avoiding the open door of the spare room and the neatly made bed.  I don’t need to search the house to know she isn’t in it.  I can feel her absence in my bones. 

I crawl back into bed, sliding between the sheets and pressing my cheek to the pillow she always used, the one that still smells like her, and I feel the tears spring back up. I let them come, uncaring of showing weakness.  There’s no one around but me and I already know how weak I am when it comes to Stormy.

My coffee sits untouched on the nightstand as I laze in bed, alternating between sleeping and staring off into the distance, my mind filled with all of the “what if’s” I can possibly think of.  I reach for my phone a dozen times and start to scroll through my recent messages to find her name, but I never actually stop long enough on it to give myself the chance to call her or shoot her a text.  I need the clean break or I’ll just fall back into my usual pattern and let her back into my life when we both know we’re better off without the other.

I just wish I believed that.

**Stormy**

Days have passed and I haven’t made it much farther than my door. 

I haven’t slept in my bed because I just can’t bring myself to be in my bedroom and my body aches from sleeping on the couch.

I have an appointment with my therapist this afternoon and every time I think about sitting down on that stiff leather couch in that unwelcoming office, I want to call and cancel.  I don’t though, because I know that I need this help to get better.  And I need to get better for not just myself but because I want to give Josh everything I have and being partially healed is not good enough.

I lick my lips and take a drag off one of the joints I keep in the silver cigarette case in the drawer of my coffee table.  I’m careful to keep my bare legs clear of any stray ash, curled into a chair in the corner of my living room with the ashtray balanced on my bare thigh, my tank top and panties adequate cover for being in the comfort of my own place.

It doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore though.

Josh’s house had felt like home and I was having a hard time readjusting to not being there.  Not being with him.

The few days I’ve been without him have been excruciating but I’m getting by; minutes, hours at a time.  I take another drag and my leg jerks as I cough out a cloud of smoke in surprise when my phone shakes on the table beside me.  I grab at it, my heart beating hard with hopeful promise that it might be him and then plummeting when it isn’t.  I don’t recognize the number but that’s not surprising these days. 

I slide my thumb across the screen and say, “Hello?” 

I tap the edge of the joint on the lip of the crystal ashtray and listen to a woman’s timid tone on the end of the line say, “Hi.  Stormy?”

I try to place the voice but I’m drawing a blank as I respond, “This is she.  May I ask who this is?”  I inhale shallowly and decide that’s enough for now and stamp out the half of the j.  I place the ashtray on the table top and push my hair back from my face as the woman on the other end clears her throat.

“Hi, Stormy.  It’s Mona – I met you in New York at the Letterman studio?”

Everything clicks together and I lean my head back, closing my very tired eyes.  “Right, Mona.  Have you made it out of there yet?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.  I just landed a half an hour ago and I’m standing in the AVIS line but I have no idea what to do first.  I’m sorry to bother you, I just honestly came here on a whim and I packed everything I own and it’s on its way here, but I don’t even know which hotel to get and I need help.”  She sucks in a breath and says pleadingly, “Help?”

I put a hand over my mouth, amused by her rant, hiding a grin as if she can see me. “Okay, skip the rental car and grab a taxi.  I live in the 4041 Studios. I’ll keep a look out for you and wave you up when you get here and we’ll figure out the rest from there.”

Her sigh of relief over the line makes me smile wistfully, remembering a time when I was that daring to just drop everything to start a new life.

Her voice is filled with gratitude as she replies, “Oh, thank you.  You’re amazing.  I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“See you in a few.”  And then I hang up, my lips tilted in a small smile.  In my excitement I scroll through my contacts to call Josh when I remember I shouldn’t.

My bottom lip is caught between my teeth as I contemplate my decision to call or not. After turning my phone over and over in my hands I finally toss it onto the couch and head to the corner of my living room where my bag is laid open.  I grab a pair of jeans and slide them on as well as a loose sweatshirt, tucking the anchor necklace that dangles around my neck down beneath the layers to rest between my breasts. 

I think about the possibilities of asking Mona to move in with me here.

It’s time to take chances and having a practical stranger as a roommate sounds like a big step to me.

I move out to the balcony overlooking the street and lean against the railing holding my arms tightly crossed in front of me.  My left shoulder still bothers me but I’m starting physical therapy in a week to work out the kinks and I hope that by the time I’m done with that I’ll have full range of motion in my arm again.

I watch for the cab as I lean my weight on the wrought iron scroll work, looking out at the traffic on Ventura.  I don’t see the Kentucky blue motorcycle that pulls up to the corner of the street and I completely miss the way he takes off his sunglasses and stares up at me, digging his phone from his pocket to dial my number.  Taking it as a sign of fate that I’m here when he’s just driving by.  I’m scanning the surrounding buildings, lost in thought as my phone vibrates silently lost in the folds of the couch. 

Instead, I smile out in the open air and breathe deeply, attempting to focus on the positive and letting go of the negative.  I decide that for now, I need to let Josh go. 

He’s the one for me and I laugh, squeezing myself in a hug at the realization that Josh is my personal goal.  Being good enough for him will hopefully come in time.

I’m going to work on me and in eight weeks when he comes home, I’m going to be completely fixed for him.

Hopefully, for us.


	19. Chapter 19

**Stormy**

Josh is scheduled to leave in two days and I haven’t heard from him. 

More than a week ago I had watched Mona’s cab pull up to the curb and I had smiled and turned back into my apartment, opening the door to greet her.  She had been excited and nervous and she talked really fast, but she was such a sweetheart and over lunch I had sat across from her and proposed my idea of becoming roommates.  We hashed out the details quickly and by the time we were done with our burgers at Laurel Tavern, I had a roommate and a new friend.

We walked the half a mile back to our new pad and I swung by the lease office to grab a second set of keys. 

Because I could no longer bring myself to sleep in the bedroom and sleeping on the couch wasn’t cutting it, we talked to the agent about moving over to a two bedroom apartment.  I knew the one across the hall from me had been open for nearly a month and I wouldn’t be breaking the lease because they could just roll the time frame over.

Anne looked up at me from behind her desk and said, “You know you’d be doing us a favor.  We can hardly ever move the two bedrooms and the singles get snatched up quick.”

I shrugged and grinned, “I knew that.”  I bit my lip, suddenly solemn when I admitted, “I also don’t know how much longer I can live there with what happened.”

The brunette across from me shook her head, “I know that too.  I was wondering when you were going to come in here and break your lease.  I’m glad you’re staying on though.  Do you need help moving?  Tony and his guys have a little side business if you want some extra hands.”

My nod was quick and sure.  “Of course, I’d love that.  And we need to add Mona to the lease and her stuff will be here in a day or two.”

Anne had switched her gaze over to a shell shocked Mona who just looked as if she had landed in Wonderland.  I reached over and touched her arm, bringing her back to the present. 

Anne glanced back at me and said, “You sure she’s not going to bail on you?”

I waved my hand dismissing the notion.  “If she decides to break the lease I’ll pay the difference.”

Anne could do nothing but accept the terms.  “Okay.  Let me get the keys and I’ll show you guys the apartment.  If it’s what you want, you have 30 days to move in.”  As she stood up and moved towards us she nudged me with her elbow and winked.  “Normally you’d have two weeks but I like you.”

I laughed and hooked my arm with a still shocked Mona’s, walking her along.  On the second floor we came to the split in the hall where my door was on the left and our new digs were on the right.  Anne plugged the key in and then held the door and let us enter first.  Instantly, I could tell it was bigger than mine.  The leather couch had me wrinkling my nose in distaste and Anne immediately said, “You can move yours in of course and we’ll put this one in storage.  I was a little worried about the colors because I know you have your red wall and this one has a darker palette.”

I released Mona and moved to the middle of the living room, turning in a slow circle and imagining my stuff here.  Caught up in the moment I laughed excitedly and quickly made my way toward the bedrooms.  The sight of the queen size bed still made me falter but the energy in the room was peaceful with the light yellow accent wall and I jumped onto the bed.  I heard Anne showing Mona to the other room and I laid down on top of the comforter, judging the mattress. 

The soft rap of knuckles on the door had me raising my head to look over.  Anne smiled and moved into the bedroom, perching on the edge of the bed next to me.  She reached a hand out and tapped my wrist with her fingertips.  “I’m really sorry, Stormy.”

I felt the tears spring up to my eyes and I turned my hand over and captured hers with mine, squeezing for a moment.  “I appreciate that.”  Anne and I had known each other for a while, since the day I moved in nearly five years ago and she had taken me to Umami to welcome me out west.  I attended her and Tony’s wedding four years ago and the christening of their baby girl two years later.  We were far from strangers but we weren’t close enough to call on each other in times of need.  Our hands slid away from each other after a brief time and then Anne was up and moving towards the door. 

“I’m going to leave you two to talk.  Swing back by the office after you reach a decision.  We’ll sign the papers and adjust anything we need to.  I have the couch and the paint written down already so anything else, feel free to add.”  She winked at me and then left and I took a few calming breaths before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and going to find Mona.

She was seated on the side of the bed in the larger bedroom of the two, pale in the face and worry lines etched into her forehead.  “Mona?  What do you think?”

Her eyes were glassy as she stared up at me.  Her mouth opened and no words came out and she shut her lips together tight.  Considering what little I knew of her, I happened to know she talked a lot when she was nervous.  Being speechless was probably a very bad sign. 

I smiled reassuringly and sat down beside her, an arm curling around her shoulders and tugging her to me so she leaned into my hold and her head rested on my shoulder.  “I know it’s a big step, sweetie.  It’s been a long day and a lot has happened.  You left your job, you moved all the way out here, you’ve pretty much uprooted your life.”  At her keening moan I held her a little tighter, turning my body so I could properly offer her support.  “But you have to focus on the wonderful change that is happening.  You left a boss you hated.  And I happen to know Conan personally and he’s a wonderful man and a fun boss.  You moved all the way out here but look at where you are.  You’re in L.A. baby.  The possibilities are endless.  I mean, it’s January and you’re wearing a t-shirt.” 

She giggled and I smiled and pressed my cheek to the top of her head.  “You left your friends behind, but you’ve already made a new one.  And I’m a pretty badass friend to have.”  Even I had to laugh at that.  I had felt her start to relax against me and I brushed my other hand through her hair and then pushed gently against her shoulders until she sat back.  The color had come back into her cheeks and her eyes were a clear, alert green once again.  “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, Mo, and if you don’t want to move in with me I have no problem.  Signing a lease is a very big deal and you literally just got off a plane hours ago.  I can handle the rent.  That’s not a problem.”  At her snort and roll of her eyes I grinned.  I was sure she knew how much money I had made off the book.  It was public knowledge.

Her eyes moved away from mine and looked around the room, taking in the spacious master bedroom.  “Is the other one this big?”

I shake my head, “No, but it’s mine.  I like it.  It feels right.”  I shrugged and added, “I like the energy.”

At her slow release of a breath and her slow coming nod, she finally looked back at me and said, “Okay.  Let’s do it.”

Letting out a whoop I threw my arm around her and hugged her.  “Welcome to L.A. Mona!”  She giggled and her eyes lit up when she smiled.  A thought occurred to me and I winced as I asked, “How do you feel about medical marijuana?”

That was nearly a week ago.  We’re slowly but surely moving my stuff from across the hall.  The lease had been signed and Mona and I had become inseparable.  We often finish each other’s sentences and as it turns out she is perfectly fine with the occasional contact high.  She’s settling into her job and I am working my ass off on the sequel I had signed a deal for.  From what I could tell there is only one thing missing in my life, the rest of my family. 

I miss Driver and Andre and Josh.  Mostly I miss Josh. 

I had attended therapy sessions and after the second one I was pretty sure it was a joke.  The first step I had to take with healing was forgiveness.  I was told to forgive myself first.

I thought that was a crock of shit since I didn’t blame me for what I had suffered.  I had moved past that, as far as I was concerned.  The only person to blame was Adam.  And when I was told I had to forgive him next, I calmly stood up from the chaise I was sprawled across and scooped up my purse from the end table.  The stare I had leveled at my therapist froze him in place and in a very even voice that I worked hard to control I said, “If the only way to fix myself is to forgive that worthless piece of shit for raping and beating me, then I guess I’ll have to stay broken.  I will never forgive him.”

I had turned and walked out and I hadn’t looked back.  I had since missed a session and I was contemplating whether to go to my next one tomorrow afternoon when I receive the text.

**Josh**

I use the shoulder of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow, Driver panting heavily at my side.  We just finished a run and I have been trying to spend as much free time with him as I can before I leave.  My mom is coming to pick him up tomorrow before we head to the airport and I am going to miss him.  Almost as much as I miss Stormy.  I can’t imagine missing anything more than her.

The day I had seen her on her balcony I had broken down and called her.  My heart had been in my throat and my voice had been lodged somewhere in there too.  But she hadn’t answered it.  She had just stood there, leaning into the railing, smiling as she looked out along Ventura.  When her voice mail picked up and her laughing voice exclaimed, “You’ve reached Stormy!”, I had automatically hung up.  I sat there, biting my lip, unsure of my next move.  Then a cab had pulled up and I had watched her whole face light up with pleasure and then I realized she had been waiting for someone. 

I didn’t stick around to find out who.

I watched her turn in a hurry to go back into her apartment and I had brought my sunglasses down and put my helmet back on.  I had started my bike and moved back into traffic, averting my gaze from her expected visitor.  From the person who made her smile like I once had.

I think about it, even today, nearly a week later, what I would have said if she had picked up the phone.

I know I would have said I was sorry.  That I should have been patient with her.  I should have followed her into the bathroom, just like the time before, and I should have held her.  I could have coaxed her out and held her beside me in bed all night.

I could have told her I loved her.

My face warms and my eyes burn with the tears building up behind them and I shake my head hard, letting go of my inner musings.

It was too late now.  And from the look of her that day she had moved on just fine.

I push open the door to the house and unclip Driver’s leash before kicking off my sneakers.  A hearty shout of surprise jerks my head up and I’m staring at a dozen of mine and Andre’s closest friends. 

A good-bye party commences and I head to the shower to clean up and change.  When I rejoin the party, Andre slaps me on the back and says, “I thought you could use some cheering up.”  As far as I know Andre has not talked to Stormy although I wouldn’t expect him to tell me if he had.  It doesn’t stop my eyes from searching the familiar faces spread throughout my house.  The small shake of Andre’s head as if he knows I’m searching for her brings me up short.  I wonder if he even invited her.  I really wish he had.  Because out of the dozen people in attendance, she’s the only one I want to see before I go. 

**Andre**

It’s physically painful to watch Josh without Stormy.  When we went home for Christmas, he interacted with everyone but his heart was somewhere else.  We had ran into an ex of his while visiting the local bar and he had given her a hug and asked how she was doing but his body language screamed that he was already taken and that he was just being polite. 

Even now as I watch him sit down beside our friend Caitlin, I can tell he’s interested in what she’s saying but his eyes drift away, his fingers drum on his knee and he nods too often as if he isn’t fully paying attention.

As the party wraps up Caitlin sidles up to me in the kitchen.  “He’s got it bad.”

I raise my eyebrows at her and agree.  “Very bad.”

She moves to lean against the counter where the solo cups are stacked, the lineup of liquor bottles off to the side.  “So what are we going to do?”

My sigh lifts my shoulders in a shrug because I’ve been wondering the same thing but I haven’t been able to come to a conclusion.  “I just don’t know.  I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”  I look off towards the living room where everyone is talking and Josh is sitting on the floor in front of the couch with Driver in his lap, not really participating in any one conversation.  Kind of just existing on the fringes.

Caitlin follows my line of sight and sighs.  “He’s so fucking pathetic.”

I shoot her a look that says it all.  She’s absolutely right.  And there’s only one thing I can think of to possibly change this whole scenario.  I haven’t talked to Stormy but we have texted back and forth and so I pull my phone out of my pocket and intervene. 

I can’t think of anything else to do so I let it rest.  It’s out of my hands now.  I just hope she shows.

**Stormy**

My lungs burn as I push through the throng of people milling around the gate.  It’s a quarter past two and I’m silently cursing my indecision as well as the L.A. traffic that seems to constantly surround the airport. 

I twist to the right and left as I try to find either Andre or Josh and I’m just not tall enough to have a clear view.  The airport is packed today as it usually is on a weekend afternoon and I hurry over to a nearly empty chair.  The older gentleman sitting in the one beside it looks up at me quizzically.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I’m trying to find someone but I need a boost.  Would you mind if I stood on the seat?”

He quickly moves his carry on aside, “No. Not at all.”  He holds out a hand that I gladly take and I smile at his kindness before stepping up and looking over everyone. 

I spot a gray Volcom hat, the one he still has, not far away that makes my heart clutch in my chest.  Cupping my hands around my mouth I yell his name.  It seems to have a stunning effect and I see him freeze in mid step.  His face as he turns around is one of shock and I shout his name again, directing his eyes upward to me.  I raise my right arm and wave, my grin unbreakable as he turns back towards me, his gaze caught on mine as he pushes through the wall of people moving in the opposite direction. 

I thank the man and he offers me a hand down and as soon as my feet touch the floor I take off in the direction I remember seeing him.  In just a few steps he’s there in front of me, his eyes devouring me and his mouth open as if he’s still not quite sure I’m there.

I fly towards him and fling myself into his arms.  Two strong bands wrap around me securely and his mouth presses into the shoulder of my shirt as he repeats my name.  I sweep the hat off of his head, holding it by the brim with one hand while I clutch the back of his head, a handful of hair in the other, pressing my face as close to him as I can get.

He feels like home.

We stand there, getting jostled back and forth.  I can’t bring myself to care.  He lifts his head up from my shoulder and his eyes are glassy with emotion.  I grin and press my lips to his in a quick kiss.  I pull away before it can deepen and Josh takes note of that.  His hands drop to my hips and then he gives me a quick squeeze before he starts to guide me off to the side near the bank of windows not far from the security check point.

“What are you doing here?”  His hands have moved upward to frame my face and his smile transforms him.  He ducks his head again for another kiss and I stop him with my hands to his chest.  He pulls back and blinks at the sudden barrier I’ve erected between us.  “What is it?”

I lick my dry lips nervously and curl my fists into the front of his shirt.  “I needed to see you off.  I didn’t want you to leave the country without at least saying good-bye.”

His eyes search mine and I can feel the wall slamming into place.  His cheeks are flushed as he says, “Is that what this is?  A good-bye?”

I suck in a breath and release it slowly before I say, “It’s what it has to be, Josh.”  I let go of his shirt to put my hands on his arms.  “This can’t change anything between us. That’s not what I came here for.”  I put one hand to the back of his head and directed him down until my forehead rests against his.  I close my eyes briefly because having him this close, his breath a whisper on my parted lips, is more than I could have hoped for.  Finally, I open them again to see him watching me expectantly.  My voice is a mere whisper when I add, “I didn’t want you to leave mad or hurt.  I don’t want you to hate me.”  I choke on a cry and Josh’s eyes fill with tears, mine already blurring my vision. “Don’t hate me, okay?”

His arms are suddenly around me and his body shakes against mine as he turns us deeper into the corner by the potted plant.

His voice is hoarse and tears roll down his face in quick succession.  I quickly put the hat back down on his head and adjust it to where anyone looking at us won’t see what I can see.  He’s trying to stem the flow of tears but not doing a very good job of it as he says, “I could never hate you, Storm.  You’re everything beautiful in this world.  Everything good.”  His hands are shaking as he places one on the side of my head to tuck me into his chest while he drops his voice very low and says, “Never.  I’d never hate you.” 

We stand there, leaning our weight on each other, holding tight to what we’ll soon have to leave behind when Andre’s voice breaks into our little world with a gentle reminder. “It’s time to go.”

Josh raises the sleeve of his sweatshirt and wipes first my tears from my cheeks and then his own.  He sniffles and lets out a long breath that ends on a smile.  He presses his lips to my forehead and says softly, “Thank you for coming to see me.”

Suddenly I’m caught in a rather tight hug by Andre who rocks back and forth and tells me how much he’ll miss me.

My arms return the embrace, “In eight short weeks you’ll both be home and we’ll celebrate.  Maybe you guys can finally get me to go bowling.”

Josh’s eyes roll and he gently tugs me away from Andre to hook his arm around my shoulders as he turns us towards security.  “Sure.  Bowling sounds amazing.”

I giggle because I know he’s being a sarcastic fuck and he’s probably thinking about other things we’ve done in the past that would be a lot more interesting to do when he finally gets home.  I think he realizes that we aren’t going back to what we were and when he stops near the metal detector he pulls me close for another hug.  His mouth is beside my ear when he says, “You’ll always be my girl, Stormy.”

I smile because I remember this from laying in my bed just a few weeks ago.  My phone starts ringing obnoxiously from my pocket and I groan.  I know who it is without even looking.  Josh pulls back and looks down at me, a small grin playing at his lips. “I’ll see you soon, Stormy.”  

Andre catches me in a softer hug and we air kiss as he pulls back. Then they step through security and Josh turns back and lifts his hand in a wave even as I hold my still ringing phone in my hand.  Finally I realize what I was interrupted by saying, so I cup my hands around my mouth and yell down the terminal at him, “YOU’RE MY GUY, JOSH!”  He turns with a wide smile and kisses his hands and throws the invisible sentiment to me.  I smile and watch until he and Andre disappear from view.

My phone has since stopped ringing and so I call her back.  She answers on the first ring as if she’s sitting right beside the phone which she probably is.  Before I can even get a hello out she asks, “Did you make up?”

“Friends, Mona.  We’re just friends.”

I can hear her scoff even from here, even on speaker phone.  “You do know that you two are meant to be, right?”

I groan out loud, placing a hand to my eyebrows, “I’ll be home in a bit.  We’ll talk about this then.” 

I hang up as her voice chimes out to me, “But you’re my OTP!”

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and turn away from the bank of passengers waiting to board.  My tired body carries me to the exit and I don’t bother to look back. Because I know the only thing to do now is move forward.

And I have an appointment with a therapist to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19 1/2
> 
> **Patient Name: Stormy Seasons | Age: 27 | Session 4 | January 15, 2014.**
> 
> 3:28 p.m.
> 
> “Stormy, would you like to sit?”
> 
> “Oh. Uh, sure. Okay.”
> 
> “There, isn’t that better?”
> 
> “Yeah. Yes, I mean. Yes, it is.”
> 
> “Would you like to start with pleasantries or jump right into it?”
> 
> “I guess we could just jump right in?”
> 
> “Are you asking me or telling me, Stormy?”
> 
> “Oh. Uh, I guess I’m telling you. I mean, I am telling you.”
> 
> “Telling me what?”
> 
> “I would like to go ahead and start.”
> 
> “That’s better. See how much more confident you feel when you exert your answers into statements?”
> 
> “Sure.”
> 
> “Stormy. I want to ask you how you are feeling now that Josh is gone.”
> 
> “I’m okay.”
> 
> “Just okay? Have you slept through the night yet?”
> 
> “No, not yet. Oh, wait. Yes. Okay, well, almost. I almost did.”
> 
> “Without the aid of marijuana?”
> 
> “Oh, then no.”
> 
> “Nightmares?”
> 
> “Yeah. I mean, yes. Just that same one though.”
> 
> “The one where he leaves you.”
> 
> “Yes.”
> 
> “Do you want to describe it to me?”
> 
> “Not especially. I mean, it’s no different than usual. I just don’t see what revisiting it over and over is going to do for me.”
> 
> “You might remember something, some small detail that could click everything into place.”
> 
> “I don’t want to describe it again.”
> 
> “Stormy –“
> 
> “I said no, okay? Just drop it. Next question.”
> 
> “That’s fine. We’ll come back to it a little later. For now can you tell me about your living arrangements?”
> 
> “You mean Mona? Mona’s great.”
> 
> “And how is the moving process coming along?”
> 
> “We pretty much are moving right across the hall so we’re not bothering with packing. We kind of just fill bags and take them over, unload and then repeat. No stress.”
> 
> “During your last session you told me you were almost done moving. Are you any closer than you were on Sunday?”
> 
> “I guess. I mean. Yes, I am.”
> 
> “Is there any room in particular you’re having trouble with? Stormy? Do I need to repeat-“
> 
> “No. You really don’t. I know what you’re doing. You’re baiting me. I get it.” 
> 
> “Would you like to answer the question then?”
> 
> “Why not? Of course I’m having problems packing up the bedroom. I can barely look towards the door let alone step through it. So yes, I’m having trouble with the bedroom in particular.”
> 
> “Your voice turned hateful for a moment. Are you trying to regulate your emotions? Because you don’t have to in here.”
> 
> “Please don’t tell me that.”
> 
> “Why?”
> 
> “Because – because this is the one place I don’t want to let go.”
> 
> “Why not? Stormy, you don’t have to monitor yourself in here. You can say whatever’s on your mind. That’s what I’m here for.”
> 
> “But not really. You’re mostly here to pass judgment.”
> 
> “Is that what you think of me?”
> 
> “Isn’t – isn’t that your job?”
> 
> “No, Stormy. My job is to help you help yourself. In our first meeting I told you the steps you’d need to take to right yourself. Or “fix yourself” as you call it. I told you to forgive yourself and then forgive your offender.”
> 
> “Right.”
> 
> “You told me you never blamed yourself and that you would never forgive – him. Why do you think you don’t blame you?”
> 
> “Because I never did anything wrong.”
> 
> “Didn’t you?”
> 
> “Excuse me?”
> 
> “Well, you made a series of decisions leading up to the moment –“
> 
> “Nothing I did would ever give any person the right to rape and then beat me. I may have kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt Josh, but I never felt like I deserved it. I never once blamed myself.”
> 
> “And Josh?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Do you blame Josh for what happened? Stormy?”
> 
> “Of – of course not. Josh had nothing to do with it. He didn’t. Stop, please.”
> 
> “Stop what, Stormy?”
> 
> “Looking at me like you expect me to change my answer. I never blamed Josh. Never.”
> 
> “So you never felt like you were at fault. And you never placed any of the blame on Josh. All of the blame is on Adam.”
> 
> “Yes.”
> 
> “Can you say his name?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Why?”
> 
> “Are we almost done here?”
> 
> “Stor-“
> 
> “Never mind, I’ll answer that for both of us. We’re done here.”
> 
> “Stormy. Miss Seasons.”
> 
> “WHAT?!”
> 
> “Please sit back down.”
> 
> “I’ll see you Sunday.”
> 
> “Miss- .“
> 
> Notes on subject  
>  _Patient is easily aggravated at the mention of the attacker’s name. Defensive to the point of anger over Josh. Possible misplaced hero worship. Recurring nightmare of abandonment present. Next session: seeking approval._


	20. Chapter 20

**Stormy**

I turn over in bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Words play over and over in my head.  Little snippets of things we’d said to each other.

I imagine going to meet him at the airport.  Imagine him holding me to him and telling me he loves me.  It plays out differently in my mind every time.  The best one, my favorite, is when he holds my head still in his hands and kisses me, every ounce of emotion poured into it.  Confessing his love for me without words.  His tongue a slow stroke against mine as his hands tighten on me with his need for possession.  I hold him just as tightly and I tell him I’ll be here for him when he returns home.

He tells me I am his home and that he’ll return soon.

I roll over and press my face to the pillow, stifling my sobs.  I press my fists close to my body, holding myself together as I cry.

Because that isn’t my reality.  That isn’t how we left things.

I scrub my face with my hands and sigh out the pain.  I’m in my new room in my new apartment and I can hear my new roommate down the hall as she snores softly.  We haven’t completely moved in but we’re getting there and I’ve even managed to enter my old bedroom.

Mona has met with the team at The Conan Show and starts next week.  My therapy sessions are Sundays and Wednesdays and so far I’ve walked out on 3 of the 4 I’ve had.  I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to work that way. 

The sun is rising and I pull the pillow to my chest and hug it to me as I stare out at the vibrant oranges and soft pastels that try to peek into my room.

I wonder how Josh is.  It’s my last thought before I roll out of bed and stumble into the bathroom to shower.  I’m not going to sleep, so I may as well get up and start my day.  I’m leaning against the tile, letting it prop me up, when the door swings open and I can just make out Mona’s silhouette through the hazy curtain and the steam rising up around me.

“We are going out.  O-U-T. Out.  And don’t tell me no, Stormy.”

I blink the water from my eyes as I duck forward from under the spray.  “For breakfast?”  My voice is laced with confusion because it’s not even 7 am and she’s ready to go god knows where.  Mona was always ready.

She yanks the curtain aside in her excitement, realizes I’m naked, and then flushes red as she pulls it back closed.  “I mean tonight!”

“Tonight, got it.”

She pulls the curtain again and keeps her eyes focused above my head.  “I mean it!  We are getting dressed up and we are going out and we are going to have fun.  And hopefully I will land myself someone marginally hot and we will have sex all night long.”

I laugh and lean my head under the spray again, comfortable enough in my own body that I don’t bother closing the curtain as I turn with my back against the water pounding down.  “Roger that.  Marginally hot piece of ass.  I’m making a mental note.”

Mona smiles with satisfaction and closes the curtain again.  I listen to the door shut and I slouch against the tile once again in repose.

Maybe focusing on Mona’s love life will take my mind off of my own.  Or the absence of my own at least.

After my shower I retreat to my room and grab my laptop.  I yell to Mona that I’m heading up to the roof.  It’s January in L.A. and the weather is just starting to bite with a chill in the early mornings and late evenings.  I shrug on a pilled sweater, stick a joint and a lighter in one of the deep pockets and slip on a pair of rain boots for easy access.  A quick trip up a steep metal grated staircase and I’m engulfed in the crisp morning air.  I curl up on a lounge chair with the colorful tendrils of sunlight breaking over the horizon and boot up my laptop, then I stick the soft white paper between my lips and light the end.

Technically it is illegal to smoke marijuana outdoors, even medically prescribed, but that has never stopped me before.  I inhale deeply and trap it inside my lungs as I open up the word document to the last part I had gotten down and after a quick read through of the last page I start typing away. 

I enter the world I am creating and the sounds on the street below me become a backdrop to whatever zone I’m lost in.  I shift my body when it stiffens from sitting in one place for too long and eventually the door to the roof opens and Mona pokes her head out.  When she sees me she ventures over to me and hands me a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. 

“It’s just pb&j but I figured you’d have to eat sooner or later.”

I pull myself away long enough to take a huge bite of the sandwich.  “Thanks.”

She shrugs and sits down across from me, taking a bite out of her own lunch.  “It’s no problem.”  She seems content to just sit in the silence with me and while she imagines god knows what, I’ve already finished the next two chapters of my book in my head.

After lunch she tells me we’re going to karaoke tonight to which I cringe.  I can’t sing and as my roommate she’s aware of this.  “You’ll be great.  We’ll grab Suzanne and get a little liquid courage in you, you’ll be fine.”

I make a face at her back as she leaves me alone in the open air with my thoughts and I retreat back into my make believe world.

Hours later I’m curled up on the couch in a pair of jeans and a boring black shirt, my Cons already laced up as I wait.  I yell out to my roomie, “Did you call Suzanne?”

After a long pause and no answer I peek around the corner of the living room to where Mona is screeching out the latest Pink single.  I give up on waiting for an answer and choose to take care of it myself.  Suzanne and Mona met last Monday and became best friends over night.  They talk and text and make me feel like a third wheel and I absolutely love it.  I am glad they found each other.  I grin as I dial her number. 

On the second ring she huffs out a breath and says, “I’m walking up the steps now.”

The phone call ends abruptly and I get off the couch to open the door as she rounds the top step. 

Suzanne lived in Connecticut for a long time with her family before moving out here last year.  She still isn’t used to the weather and her clothes reflected that.  I tug at the seasonal sweater with the wintery pattern embroidered around the hem and grin.  Suzanne must be a stylist’s wet dream or worst nightmare depending on how much of a glutton they are.  I pull her into a hug, regardless, because she’s true to herself and that’s what makes her such an awesome friend.  She rocks me back and forth in our embrace and says, “Up for a little stage time?”

I roll my eyes as I pull back.  “Mona is determined to do karaoke.”

Suzanne shrugs like ‘what can you do’ and hooks her arm with mine before she calls out, “Let’s go!”

The music shuts off seconds before Mona rounds the corner.  “I’m ready!”

I step back as the two embrace and then I let them lead me out of the apartment, closing and locking the door behind me.

We pile into the same taxi Suzanne rode over in and Mona gives directions to the driver.

I haven’t done karaoke since Josh’s living room but I was willing to give it a shot.  I followed them into the dive bar and stuck close to them for the beginning of the night.

It wasn’t until my fourth tequila shot that I started to loosen up a little and finally let Mona sign me up to sing.  Just as I was grabbing the next round from the bar I heard a girl belt out, “Let me see you - get high - and go low, now girl won’t you drop that thang down to the flo’-.”  I turn to glance at the stage and there are two blondes, one of them shaking her ass like a pro while the other sings that she “wanna see you work out - for me, work out - for me.”  I can’t contain my laughter, unable to look away for more than a few seconds as I walk back to the high bar we’ve claimed.

As the rap part came up the two seemed to switch roles and the one that had been shaking her ass on the stage pumped her fist in the air while rapping with a slight southern twang calling out, “She like them boys with the big ole’ chains, ride around town in the big ole’ Range, I knew her when I ride big ole’ chains, now the lil nigga doin’ big ole’ thangs,” while the other swiveled her hips like a seasoned dancer.

I was a little jealous.  I wasn’t sure I could drop it low or move my body quite like they could.

I set the shots down and continue to watch the show.  There are only a rough dozen of people in the bar and no one seems to pay any attention to the two on stage.  I wonder if the handful of men in here are blind.  They are two hot chicks with bangin bodies who know how to move.  It baffles my mind.

As they wrap up their time on stage I stand and applaud.  I haven’t seen anything quite as entertaining as them in a very long time. 

They bow and laugh as they get off stage, heading over to the bar.  I cut them off as they place their order and invite them to do shots with us.  They stare at me as if trying to figure out where they’ve seen me before but they take me up on my offer and head over to our table.  They place Suzanne immediately and gush over her without going too over the top.  She thanks them both humbly and then introduces me mid-lick as I swipe my tongue across the patch of salt on my hand.

I can tell by the look of recognition on their faces that they know my name and I’m not sure if it’s because of the book or my ties to Josh or the publicity surrounding my past discretions.  They introduce themselves, the one with a slight southern accent is Rachel and the other says her name is Whittle “with two T’s” as she licks her hand and sprinkles salt on the wet skin.  We clink our shot glasses and then toss them back, making faces at each other before sucking lime slices to chase the liquor.

We pull two more stools up to the table and settle into an easy flow of conversation. 

“How the hell did you get your ass to do that thing?”

Both girls grin and Rachel leans over and talks over a pretty bad rendition of some new Taylor Swift single.  “We can teach you.”

I can’t find any fault in that offer, the alcohol making me braver than I was when we first arrived.  I agree to a lesson in what Whittlee refers to as ‘twerking’ and as they’re trying to verbally explain to me how you do it, my name is called for karaoke.  I’m not sure about the whole solo performance so when they offer to come up on stage with me after noticing my wince, I jump at the chance.

Whittlee stops at the small DJ stand set up in the corner and talks to the man queueing the music.  I don’t know what song Mona had planned for me but I’m sure it’s just been replaced with a possibly more outrageous request.

The bass line that thumps against the stage just moments later confirms my beliefs.  Not even bothering with a mic Rachel and Whittlee start singing along with Timbaland and moving their shoulders and hips along to the beat.  A little lost I stood there and looked around, not sure what to do.  As Whittlee sings out J.T.’s part, “Bounce like your ass had the hiccups,” she gets behind me and grabs my hips loosely and directs them along with the beat.  Following her lead I let the music flow and with my arms above my head I grind back against her.

Suddenly every male is paying close attention but then Rachel blurts out, “Hold up, hayell naw, like Britney Spears I wear no draws’.”  I giggle as she continues to rap along with Missy Elliot and then Whittlee slaps her palm against my ass and joins in with, “Mmhmm big ole butt, thick legs, big ole jugs, legs thick like rims on the truck, take ‘em to the crib, we gon’ fuck.”

And then they start making their asses bounce and they alternate giving me step by step instructions.  I glance up as I hear Mona catcall from the back and then Rachel is clapping and egging me on as she exclaims I’m doing it. 

I drop down with my hands on my knees and do what Whittlee claims is the “booty pop”.  By the time the song ends I’m laughing hard and I’m leaning on both of my new friends.  The men and a few women in the audience whistle as we exit the stage.  As we make it back to the table Mona claps and says, “You guys looked like the Blonde Squad up there.”

The bouncer announces last call and we pass on it.  Mona is already inviting Whittlee and Rachel back to our place and I settle the bill while we collect our things to leave.

As soon as I step out of the bar, I’m stunned beyond belief at the amount of people waiting for us.  My lips part in shock at the overwhelming sight before me and my new companions provide a human barrier between me and the horde of reporters that start shouting at me.

“Stormy!”    
“Have you talked to Josh since he left to start filming?”  
“What do you have to say about the rumored romance between him and his co-star?”  
“Why did you move out of his house?”  
“Stormy, over here!”  
“Have you seen the pictures leaked of the set with Josh and Lucy together?”  
“Do you and Josh still talk?”  
“Stormy!”  
“Stormy!”

The questions being flung at me barely penetrate the glaring lights of the video cameras pointed at my face.  My hand is raised in front of me to block the offending lights as I try to walk down the sidewalk towards the waiting cabs at the curb.  The two blondes flank me on either side and Mona walks briskly beside Suzanne just a few steps ahead of me, leading me out of the madness. 

I just make it to a long line of taxis when I hear, “Stormy!  Miss Seasons!”  I glance up, not used to being addressed by my last name and a series of flashes erupt, blinding me in the process.  A woman’s voice rings out and carries over to me, “Do you have any words of advice for Lucy Dayton?”

I slide into the cab and Mona enters right behind me.  She gives our address and puts an arm around me, pulling me into her side.  I lean against her because I’m not sure what is happening and it feels like my whole life in unraveling.

I’m silent the few blocks home, my body shakes from the adrenaline spike but otherwise I’m as calm as I can be given the circumstances. 

Mona pays the driver and then hops out and pulls me after her by my arms.  I’m still in shock as we walk up the steps to the door of our apartment.  She ushers me inside and sits me on the couch and then runs off into her room and comes back with an ipad.  She turns it on and waits for the wifi to connect and then she searches for this Lucy girl.

I stare down at the pictures that come up on the touch screen one right after the other.  The most recent one is grainy but you can clearly make out the couple that is embracing.  I know him, I know his body and his body language and it’s very clear that he is enjoying her company and leaning into her.

Suzanne charges through the door with our pub pals right behind her and I’m suddenly surrounded and listening to the excited chatter of everyone as they relive the mob scene outside of the bar.  Mona sets down the ipad and gets up to pour shots in the kitchen.  Whittlee is shuffling through her purse, finally extracting a cigarette case much like my own and taking out a joint.

Rachel and Suzanne are talking animatedly and everyone seems to be in their own frenzied state as I sit here on the couch with her face staring back at me and my world crumbles down.

The lit joint is pressed to my hand and I automatically take it and inhale, the fingers of my left hand tracing her youthful face. 

The cushion dips beside me and Whittlee says, “It’ll be okay.”

I whisper back to her, “She looks like all the others.”

She must know what I mean.  The dark hair, the exotic eyes, the olive skin.  Her arm wraps around me and pulls me into a hug.  My head rests comfortably against her shoulder as I finally look away from this younger, prettier, less broken person that has caught his attention so quickly.  The tears build up and I press my face closer to this stranger as I cry.

Arms band around me as I’m joined on the couch by countless other bodies and I’m enveloped in warmth. 

I try to find the anger inside of me and all I feel is relief.  Relief because he can move on and no longer worry about my problems.  It’s better this way.  It has to be.

**Josh**

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

I glance up at Andre from a plant I’m inspecting the leaves of.  We’ve been filming for nearly a week and I’m almost certain being one with nature is not his forte.  He’s gotten crankier with every day that passes.

“What’s up, Dre?”

He shoves my shoulder, nearly knocking me over from my crouched position.  “You know exactly what’s up.  You and Lucy.”

Lucy is my co-star on this wilderness expedition.  She’s been acting since the same age I had started, except she was a few years younger than me.  Freshly eighteen to my 21.  I also knew what Andre’s problem was but she provided a distraction that I needed.  He of all people should know that.  The flight to Africa had taken nearly two days and I had sat beside him, my cap pulled down low, with tears coursing down my cheeks for half of that flight, heartbroken and heavy.  And then I stepped off the plane to Lucy’s smiling face and she treated me like a big deal and hung on my every word and it was easy.  She was easy.  Where everything with Stormy was an obstacle and every conversation was difficult, Lucy was happy to be with me. 

She reminds me of someone but I can’t put my finger on it.  I shrug at Andre.  “What’s wrong with me and Lucy?  We get along great.”

“She’s a rebound.  And she’s barely legal!”

“So?”  I stand to my full height and turn to face him.  “What do you even care?  Didn’t you just tell me on the plane to move on and forget about her?”

Andre blinks at me as if I’m speaking another language.  “Out of everything I said to you on that long ass flight you chose that to remember?”  He turns away disgusted and says with his back to me, “If this is how easily you give up on her, you don’t deserve her.”  He looks at me from over his shoulder before he walks off to the trailers to say, “You’re a complete ass and if you aren’t honest with Lucy that makes you just as bad as Vanessa.”

I stare after him, hands on my hips, as he stomps off. 

With the mention of that one name, I just realized who Lucy reminds me of.  Me.

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 20 1/2

**Session #6: Wednesday, January 22 2014**  
  
I glance around the room uneasily.  I’m the last to arrive and I slide into one of the metal folding chairs and tuck my gym bag down under my feet.  It’s Wednesday and in lieu of my regular therapy session my psychiatrist suggest I meet with other women who’ve had similar experiences.   
  
I lift my sunglasses up and use them as a headband, pushing my hair back out of my face.  There are half a dozen women sitting in the circle of chairs and one man.  I openly let my gaze roam across each person, unabashed, because that’s what everyone else is doing too.  The youngest there is just a teenager and the oldest is into her mid-thirties.  I look around at the tired, hopeful faces and I wonder what they see when they look at me.  
  
This morning I had looked in the mirror and seen my pallor start to show.    
  
The man starts talking, welcoming everyone aboard the “Ship to Wellness”.  The woman beside me  mutters something that sounds a lot like, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I immediately cough to hide a laugh.  She smirks as if she knows I heard her and her left leg that rests over the knee of her right swings back and forth slowly like a metronome keeping pace with some inner musings running through her mind.  
  
To the right of her is a younger girl with gorgeous olive skin and a mass of dark hair.  Jerry, the captain of our wellness ship, hands her a bean bag made of shiny tie dye material and says, “If you could introduce yourself.”  
  
She hesitantly speaks, her name is Kathy.  She looks a little wounded and a lot lost and my heart immediately breaks for the kid.  She tells us about her parents abusive relationship and how neither of them see it the way she does.  Her eyes tear up and the woman next to her puts an arm around her in a hug.  She gladly passes the bag across the circle as if ready to get the attention off herself.  
  
And so the process goes.  
  
Sheryl spent half a decade in an abusive marriage.  She speaks with a voice filled with warmth and resolution.  She is ready to put it behind her.  She refuses to be a victim any longer.  
  
Kira is happily married but her sister is suffering through a painful divorce and has become verbally abusive to the rest of the family.  She’s here to figure out a way to understand her sister better.  
  
Lisa’s blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, her glasses are glare free and she looks very put together.  She suffers from OCD and rolls her shoulders a lot when she speaks as if shrugging off a very heavy weight.  Her best friend has recently passed on after being beaten to death by her boyfriend.  I clear my throat and slouch down a little further in my seat.  Her story hits a little too close to home for me.  
  
On the other side of Jerry sits a very pretty redhead with clear green eyes and a permanent tilt to her lips. She had been the one to comfort the teen beside her.  Angela is here in a helper capacity.  She’s our example of what we could have if we just let go of our demons.  The model patient.  I instantly dislike her.  
  
Kathy is skipped over and then the woman beside me continues to stroke her foot back and forth where it hangs mid air.  Her name is Christina, she’s happily married and owns a dog that is slightly obsessed with dirty socks and he humps strangers as a hello.  No other forthcoming information, that is it.  
  
Every pair of eyes suddenly lands on me and Christina reaches over and drops the colorful bean bag onto my lap, indicating my turn to speak.  
  
I stare down at the offending object and after a moment of silence I shore up my resolve and huff a breath up towards my forehead, where my bangs have escaped my makeshift headband.  “My name is Stormy and I’m a victim of abuse.”  
  
I talk about Adam’s controlling behavior and what amounts to as close to a near death experience I had ever lived through.  I can tell they already know of me.  It is the underlying interest in their gazes as I continue to unravel my story, condensing it down as much as possible, and ending with Josh leaving for Africa.    
  
I don’t mention Lucy.  I don’t need to.  I could tell they all had probably seen the tabloid pictures released over the weekend.  I had been stunned in place in the express checkout lane of the grocery store as I stared at the cover picture of the lithe brunette wrapped around Josh’s body as he carried her towards a trailer marked with his name.  The implication of what they would do once they got there had made me drop my basket on the floor without checking out.  I had barely made it to the safety of my car before I had wrapped my arms around my body and pressed my face into my palms and cried.  
  
I tried to remind myself that moving on was a good sign.  He was still whole.  I hadn’t ruined him for the next girl.  
  
Instead I had pulled my knees up to my chest between my body and steering wheel and covered my head with my arms and sobbed until dry heaves started.    
  
All I could see was the smile stretching his lips.  It had been carefree and innocent.  I had made him smile like that once…I think.  I can’t remember anymore.  
  
I blink and shake my head looking back up as Jerry’s voice pulls me out of the memory.  He signals that it’s the end of our meeting and everyone starts to drift toward a table filled with little plastic cups filled with something dark red, reminiscent of fruit punch.  
  
A few of the women clustered together talk about heading over to a pizza place next door and I’m invited but I opt out.  
  
I just want to go home.  
  
I just want to forget.


	21. Chapter 21

**Stormy**  
  
On Friday I spend most of the day between the sheets, alternating between vivid nightmares and soft daydreams.  Sleep is no longer something that I do to recharge my body.  It has instead become my escape and I am using it to its full potential.  
  
My nightmares are always the same.  
  
I have this recurring dream that Josh and I are on the beach and I curl into his lap.  We both stare out at the water, the waves providing a soothing soundtrack for this immediate moment when all I can feel are his arms around me and his breath on the back of my neck.   
  
I watch the horizon and the gulls hovering just off the edge of the shore dip towards the waves, looking for their next meal.  With each crash among the shore, I let myself relax until I’m boneless and being held up only by him.   
  
My lips turn to brush against his and he smiles against me, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and skimming mine in the process.  
  
He grows hard against my hip and I try to turn in his lap. I try to straddle him to relieve both of us this pressure, but he stops me and nods his head back out towards the ocean.  With a groan I look back towards the waves and then I hear a voice as it calls his name from down the beach.  I glance over our shoulders and Josh does the same.  He stands, dumping me into the sand and I push myself up as the voice gets closer.  Josh reaches a hand down to me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile widens and he says, “I want to introduce you to someone.”  
  
I know then.  I know it’s her.  Whoever she may be.  
  
Now I have a name.  Lucy.   
  
Mona leaves me alone when she gets home from work.  She knocks on my door and asks if I’m okay and when I tell her to go away she does and lets me sulk.  
  
Saturday morning I wake up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking.  I struggle out from under the warmth of my blankets and pull on a t-shirt that barely covers my cotton panties.  I pad out of my room in bare feet and down the hall only to stop and stare at the sight of Mona, Whittlee and Rachel dancing around the kitchen.  
  
I grin and lean against the wall and watch them bump hips and attempt to teach Mona how to execute a body roll.  
  
Their energy is catching and I push off the wall to join them.  
  
It isn’t until we are all sitting and eating that Whittlee makes a face and says, “There’s no syrup.”  
  
I wrinkle my nose and stare down at the pile of pancakes on my plate.  ”Well, that blows.”  
  
We sit there, looking at the breakfast and at each other, full of disappointment.  Mona is the first to offer a solution to go to the store on the corner.  It sounds like such a good opportunity to get some sunshine that I opt to go instead.  
  
I pull on a pair of jeans, forgoing a bra, and slip on a pair of unlaced converse before grabbing my wallet and shoving it into my back pocket.  “Anything else?”  
  
Rachel speaks up as she holds up a sausage link in between two fingers, “Orange juice!  We need mimosas!”  
  
“Okay, orange juice and syrup.”  
  
“Cosmo.”  
  
I look over at Whittlee who stares back at me absolutely seriously.  Laughing I say, “Okay, and a Cosmo.”  
  
“We need butter, too.”  
  
I back towards the door and say, “Forget I asked.  You get whatever I bring back!”  And then I duck out of the apartment and hurry down the stairs to the corner market.   
  
After a quick excursion through the aisles I pile everything on the counter in front of me and reach forward to grab a Cosmo off the magazine rack, stopping mid-reach when my eyes shift to Us Weekly in the slot beside it.  More candids of Josh and his co-star, Andre in the background of a few.  I swallow tightly and snatch the magazine I want.  I turn back forward and stifle a scream in my throat when a hand lands on my shoulder.  
  
I turn quickly, dislodging the grip on my arm and look at a familiar face.  “Oh.”  I place a shaky hand to my chest and laugh.  “Hi!”  I can’t quite place her name and she seems to understand that.  
  
“Hi!  I’m Caitlin?  A friend of Josh and Andre’s?”  
  
Her Australian accent immediately clicks with something in my memories and I roll my eyes at my slow processing brain.  “Of course, Caitlin!  How are you?”  
  
Her gaze shifts towards the tabloid cover with Josh splashed across it and then just as quickly she looks back at me and replies smoothly, “I’m good.  How have you been?”  
  
Her voice is honest and clear and not condescending in the least and it puts me at ease.  I relax and respond, “I’ve been better but I’m getting there.  How is L.A. treating you?”  
  
I know she recently moved here a few months ago and I can’t fathom relocating my whole life to a totally different country.  We make small talk and then I pay for my groceries and say bye, quickly making my way back home with my small stash of groceries.   
  
At this point, mimosas sound better than pancakes anyway.  
  
 **Andre**  
  
It’s nearly noon when my phone buzzes under my pillow and wakes me up out of a dead sleep.  I grope around underneath my head and without opening my eyes I press the talk button and put the cell to my ear.  “What?”  
  
“What the everloving fuck, Andre!”  
  
I only know one Aussie with that much sass and I groan out her name. “Caitlin.  What’s up?”  
  
“I’ll tell you what’s up.  You need to get that play boy best friend of yours under control, D.  I’m serious here.  Know who I just ran into at the shops?  Stormy.  And right there staring her in the face is some rag mag with that fucking hypocrites face all over it while he’s smooching up some skank.”  
  
My sleep fogged brain takes a moment to catch up with her rapid fire words.  “Wait.  Hold on.  You saw Stormy?”  
  
Josh stirs on the short couch from the other side of the room and lifts his head towards me, his eyes still shut but his brain picking up on the key word, her name in particular.  I put her on speaker and rest the phone on the pillow beside my face, letting her tell the story.  
  
“At the mother-effing supermarket, D.  Tell Josh to get his shit straight before I fly there myself and shove a boot up his arse.”  
  
Josh is fully awake now, blinking at me from over the arm of the loveseat he is stuffed onto.  It had been a particularly weird night.  “Is that Caitlin?”  
  
Her voice screeches as she yells out, “Is that Josh?  Am I on speaker?  I hope I’m on speaker because I swear to god you fucking wanker!  Quit being such a jerkwad and start thinking with your other head you wank stain!”  
  
Josh frowns and rubs his eyes with his fists, trying to make sense of her accent that continues to thicken the more pissed off she gets.  “Wait, what did I do?”  
  
“You’re all over the rags with your skanky little slut of a co-star.  What’s her name?  Lucy the home wrecker? Yeah, her.  And there’s Stormy standing in line at the supermarket looking like the world just gave up on her.”  
  
Josh is up and off the couch now and climbing onto the side of the bed as if being closer to the phone will bring him closer to Stormy.  “You saw her?”  He scoops the phone into his hand and stares down at it with a look of such longing that my heart breaks for him.  “What - Who - I mean, how did she look?  Is she okay?”  
  
“She’s getting her heart trampled to dust you miserable prick!”  
  
“Wait.  There are pictures?  Of me and Lucy?”  He looks at me horrified as if he never even thought of the possibility and knowing Josh he probably thought it was a long shot anyone would care enough about his life here to make a big deal of it.   
  
Caitlin’s voice is muffled as she talks to someone and then comes back crystal clear as she huffs and says, “Yes, dickbag.  There have been pics of you two since the first week of shooting.  They’re hot shit over here and every single mag has been plastering the two new lovebird’s faces everywhere.”  
  
A dead panic sets into his features and he says, “No.  No!  Oh my god.  I have to call her.  I have to tell her it’s nothing.”  
  
“That better not be a lie coming out of your adulterous mouth, Joshua!  Ugh, I have to go.  You better think twice about fucking up any more.  Don’t make me take that two day flight to whatever third world country you’re in because I will.  Don’t make me.”  
  
Josh is already saying bye and hangs up as soon as she’ll let him.  He stares at me in disbelief.  I can tell by the look on his face that he’s a few threads away from totally losing it.  I grab the phone from him and say, “Josh, look, you knew this was a possibility.”  
  
His mouth drops open as he looks at me incredulously.  “Have you looked around you?  We’re in AFRICA, Andre!  I never in a million years thought she’d know!”  
  
In some ways he’s still such a kid with so much to learn about life.  “Josh, what do you think the internet does?  It connects everyone together all over the world.”  
  
His eyes close as if he’s trying to come to terms with what’s happening.  His shoulders bunch as he curls into himself and presses his face to his hands.  “I don’t know what to do.”  
  
I hate to say it because I really dislike Lucy Dayton but I nudge his thigh with my foot and ask him, “Is Lucy what you want right now?”  
  
He looks up at me, eyes rimmed in red and bloodshot, wet with banked tears as he answers, “Hell no.  She’s just…”  He thinks about the word he wants to use and finally spits out, “convenient, I guess.”  
  
I’m close enough with him that I know they haven’t had sex yet, but there was a reason he was sleeping in my room and not his and that was because she is always there, waiting.  Just waiting.  She scares the shit out of me.  And I am a tough person to frighten.  
  
He rolls his shoulders and his neck back and forth, cracking it loudly, looking down at the floor.  “If I break it off with her she’s going to make this set a living hell.”  He says it softly as if talking to himself before he adds, “If I don’t- I risk Stormy seeing more pictures of us together.”  He shakes his head and says, “I can’t do it.  I can’t hurt her anymore.”  
  
I release the breath I’ve been holding because I was silently praying he’d choose Stormy’s feelings above his own.  Sometimes you had to lead Josh to the water and then wait to see if he’d drink.  He could be a stubborn bastard sometimes.  
  
I can see the way his throat works and the way his shoulders push back that he is talking himself up to go do it.  I don’t stop him because it’s better if he doesn’t take a lot of time to think about it.  
  
I watch him get up, his jeans slung low on his waist and his chest bare to the humid air, even though the AC is blowing.  He is barefoot and his hair is sticking up in every direction but I don’t think he even notices.  He marches straight to the door of the hotel room, corrects his posture as if giving himself a pep talk as he pauses with his hand on the doorknob and then nods as he mutters and storms out, slamming the door behind him.   
  
I fall back on the bed and pull a pillow over to me and cover my face with it.  
  
Jesus Christ, could this day get any worse?  
  
It is early evening and we are on set to film a few frames during sunset when I realize it could get worse.  Much worse.  
  
I’m sitting in Josh’s trailer while I answer emails from back home as the liaison for various charities when the door swings open and bangs against the wall beside the built in couch.  I raise my eyes from my laptop to the small brunette that sweeps in.   
  
“You.”  
  
Her eyes are angry little slits under hooded lids as she hisses out the word.  I imagine, like a hell-dwelling demon, she probably has a forked tongue and hoofed feet.  Maybe a tail with little barbs on the end.  And I am fairly certain there is a trio of 6’s in a strange birthmark somewhere on her scalp under the mass of brown curls framing her cherubic face.  
  
I narrow my eyes right back at her even though my stomach turns just from being in her presence.  I reply, “Lucifer.”  
  
Her hands plant on her hips as she stands in the hall just a few feet from my spot at the kitchenette.  “Ha. Ha.  You think you’re so smart.”  
  
In that moment I am reminded that she is barely an adult and I am in my early, yet fashionable, thirties.  I feel a second of remorse that quickly passes when she smirks and I itch to go find the nearest priest and bottle of holy water.  “Look, I don’t know what you think I did-”  
  
She interrupts me with a very unladylike snort, “I know exactly what you did.  I know you don’t like me.  I know you talked Josh into breaking up.”  
  
“Breaking up?  I wasn’t aware you two were dating.”  
  
She moves so quick I have no time to move from my seat at the table.  Suddenly her 5 foot 2 frame traps me in a corner and I press my back against the wall to put as much space between us as possible.  
  
“There’s no past tense,” her voice is a hoarse whisper as she continues, “Josh is mine.  I don’t know who Stormy thinks she is.  I don’t know who you think you are.  This is a minor setback and Josh is and will always be mine.  DON’T,” her voice raises in emphasis, “fuck with my life, Andre.  You’re nothing.  You’re a personal assistant.”  She spits my improvised title out as if it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.  She picks up the folder of notes beside the laptop and flings her arm out, tossing the loose papers all over the trailer.  Her eyes burn bright with a hint of crazy as she reiterates, “You’re nothing.  I’m everything.”  
  
Then she turns and stomps out of the trailer.  She grabs the door when she reaches the bottom step and I prepare myself for a bang as she slams it, but instead she turns towards me, totally composed as she smiles and says in a saccharine voice, “Thanks, Andre.  I’ll just go look – oh.” Her eyes obviously find her prey outside and she adds, “There you are, sweetie.”  She pulls the door shut with a soft click and I hear her docile voice reply to Josh’s muffled words.  “I was just asking Andre if he’d seen you around.  I wanted to know if-”  
  
Their voices trail off and I look around the trailer, stunned. I’m not totally sure what has just happened.  
  
Had that little bitch seriously just come in here and threaten me?  I look at the evidence strewn around the inside of the trailer and I rub a wide palm across my closely shaved head.  What the fuck just happened?  
  
 **Stormy**  
  
Before I even open my eyes, I regret the fact that I have to do anything today.  It’s Sunday and I have a regular therapy session where I get to sit down and talk to this woman who just stares at me and makes notes in her little legal pad.  I can’t count how many times I’ve wanted to snatch that damn pad out of her hands and throw it out the floor to ceiling windows behind her desk.  
  
I try to remember yesterday but it’s a blur.  Rachel made the tastiest mimosas and I’m pretty sure by noon I was buzzed, which only led to me getting wasted as the afternoon wore on.  I move a heavy arm off from around my stomach and struggle to sit up, my foot connecting with someone’s thigh.  I crack my eyes open enough to see that we had all four passed out in my bed for some reason and as my head starts pounding I try to remember why I’m not asleep.  
  
Josh’s voice singing a crazed version of an ice cream truck jingle rang from somewhere across the room and my body stiffens because only one person has that ring tone.  As it starts on its second round and he says, “Barka Barka Ding-” I fling myself over the resting bodies on the edge of the bed and roll into the floor.  Scrambling to my feet I lunge for the phone and without checking the screen I answer it with a breathless, “Hello?” that barely clears my lungs.  
  
I hear nothing at first.  No background noise.  No breathing.  But I can feel him there and I curl in on myself and press the speaker closer to my ear, his name choked out of my throat. “Josh.”  
  
Finally I hear something and it’s the faintest noise of his silent sobs that have me tearing up.  His voice is watery and rusted out when he says, “Say something else.  Oh, god, please just keep talking.”  
  
I press the side of my fist to my lips, a half laugh escaping.  “I don’t even know what to say.  I don’t- where are you?  Are you here?”  My body lightens with the thought that he could be a few minutes away.  I could touch him again and just breathe the same air as him.  
  
“Africa.  Still in Africa.  Talk.  Please, Storm- talk.  I need to hear you.”  
  
Not wanting to risk waking up the resting bodies strewn across my bed I drop my voice to a whisper and exit my room, quietly clicking the door shut.  “I don’t know what you want me to say.  I don’t even know where to start.  I’m- I don’t-”    
  
Josh’s voice is very precise as he asks, “Why are you whispering?  Is someone there?”  
  
I detect the hint of jealousy in his voice and I’m immediately reminded of the fact that he currently belongs to someone else.  I swallow back a new heartache that wants to grip my lungs and squeeze the air out of me.  I decide now is not the time to bring it up and instead I offer a truce as I collapse onto the couch, “I won’t ask about your personal life if you don’t ask about mine.”  
  
Josh’s voice comes out in a sudden rush, “No!  That’s why I called.  I swear to you, Stormy.  There’s nothing going on with Lucy.”  
  
Just the mention of her name sets me on edge and I hiccup a sob that traps in my throat.  “Josh, please-”  
  
“Nothing happened!  I didn’t even know there were pictures-”  
  
“Josh, stop.”  
  
“You have to believe me.  Please, Stormy.  Please believe me.”  
  
“Josh, just stop!”  
  
He’s completely quiet on his end and I brush the tears away as they roll down my cheeks.  I can tell he’s giving me the chance to speak and I make the same offer as before with a little explanation behind it.  “I started therapy the day you left.  I went straight there from the airport.  At first I was fixing myself to be with you.”  I heard him tsk and I curled my knees up to my chest and said, “Yeah, I know.  Not a good reason.  That’s what the shrink said, too.”  
  
“She’d be right, babe.  You have to do this for you.”  His voice is soft and I can hear him rustle as if he’s settling into bed and I try to push that thought away because I don’t want the distraction of imagining him between the sheets.  I don’t want to remember what it was like to curve my body against his and soak in his warmth.  I don’t want this to be more difficult than it is.  
  
“I saw those pictures.  I saw you with her and you looked so happy.”  He tries to cut me off but I stop him, “Please just let me get this out.”  He sighs and I can tell he’s not happy with the thought but it’s something I need to do for me.  “I saw the two of you together and you were smiling and laughing and you were happy.”  I laughed a little and said, “I wanted to come to you.  I wanted to kill the bitch.”  
  
His laughter is a surprised bark into my ear, “Stormy!”  
  
“Hey.  I can’t help it okay.  She’s younger and prettier and she’s there and I’m here.  All the way over here.  She can touch you and be near you and I only have my dreams.”  
  
He skates over most of what I say and asks, “Dreams, huh?”  
  
“Josh.”  His name is a whispered plea and he gets very quiet.  We both do.  
  
His voice is authoritative when he finally speaks again, “She’s younger than you.  More naive.  More immature.  Definitely not prettier.  I’ve never met anyone as beautiful as you.  She’s here where I am but you’re where I want to be.”  He sucks in a breath and blurts out, “If I could come home right now I would, Storm.  Because you’re my home.”  
  
I lay my head against the back of the couch.  I don’t know where to take the conversation from there so Josh picks up the slack on my end and fills me in on the scenery and the wild animals and how much he knows I’d love it there.    
  
We spend the morning on the phone.    
  
And when we hang up I promise to call him later today after my therapy session.   
  
It’s a start.  To what, I don’t know.  I’m just happy to have my best friend back.  My heart feels less broken.  My world feels a little more complete.  And it doesn’t bother me that Josh is the reason.

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 21 1/2

 

**Session #8: Wednesday, January 29 2014**

I stare up at the raised wooden platform above us, nearly 5 feet off the ground.  Chad, the hunky leader of this exercise, looks us over and then slaps his palm against the clipboard in his other hand.  “Who wants to go first?”  
  
My gaze shifts from the death mount to him and I frown.  He actually expects someone to volunteer?  A hand is placed in the center of Jerry’s back and he’s pushed forward.  I glance over and see Christina look the other way, feigning innocence.  I chuckle softly at the bewildered look on our charges face.  “Oh, but I’m not really a part of this group.”  
  
Chad tilts his head curiously and asks, “But aren’t you?”  
  
Jerry shoots us a panicked look over his shoulder.  “Uh, I’m just the therapist.”  
  
“Just the therapist?”  I look back to where Sheryl and Lisa talk quietly while Jerry stammers an undecipherable answer. Chad continues with his speech. “Jerry, you’re not just the therapist, man. You’re their mentor. You’re the reason they’re healing. Doesn’t that make you feel empowered? Doesn’t that make you feel like you can do anything?”   
  
Chad’s energy has transferred to Jerry and he’s nodding along.  Finally he yells, “Let’s do this!” and he rushes up the steps to the raised wooden platform. Chad leads us to the cleared space in front of it, directs us where to stand and how to lock our arms together, then shows Jerry how to position himself.  
  
This particular exercise is a trust fall and I silently applaud Jerry and his huge set of balls for putting his well being into the hands of 6 women he’s just met.  Although now that he’s up there and Chad isn’t hyping him up anymore he looks like he’s having second thoughts.   
  
It’s Angela that yells out, “My arms are getting tired Jerry. Wait much longer and I might not be able to catch you.” She winks at me and I can’t help but grin in return.  
  
Lisa starts the chant by sing-songing his name and soon we all join in, his name echoing through the vast wooded area around us. “Jer-ry, Jer-ry, Jer-ry” then he crosses his arms and after taking in a breath we can all hear he falls backwards.  
  
His eyes are slow to open but once he does and realizes he didn’t go splat on the ground, that we actually caught him, he smiles. We lower him to the ground and when Chad asks for the next volunteer we all stare at each other. Finally I speak up and say, “I think we should move to the next exercise.”  
  
Chad looks disappointed but rolls his shoulders and fixes a smile on his face. “Okay then. Who’s up for a game I like to call Dangerous Directions?” He excitedly leads the way and I trudge along in his wake with the others.  
  
Chad leads us over to a wide area marked off with orange cones.  ”This is my favorite one, ladies.  You’ll be paired up and one of you will be blindfolded.”  He groups us together in twos and passes out silky black sleep masks.  Sheryl is standing closest to me so he motions for us to pair up and then hands her the blindfold.  She stares down at it for longer than necessary while she wrestles with some sort of deeper emotion.  I gently take it from her and say, “I can do this part.”  She smiles gratefully as I put it on and then Chad orders the person without the blindfold to stand behind their partner and put their hands on their partners shoulders.    
  
Her hands are gentle without exerting too much pressure and I relax.  My left arm and shoulder are healing nicely and I am able to put some weight on it but the internal bruising has yet to go away and I feel every single push and tug.   It’s a daily chore to do physical therapy but I have been given exercises to do at home and I religiously stick to them.  
  
One day I want no more reminders of Adam in my life.  I want everything he left behind - every mark he made and every discouraging word he’s said - to be scrubbed from my life.  I know I will never forget.  He’ll always be in some corner of my mind, whispering doubts and robbing pieces of my self esteem, but I could get rid of the physical marks, and I am.    
  
Chad brings me back to the present as he describes the activity.  One partner has to lead the other around the obstacle course without knocking down any cones.  I shrug one of Sheryl’s hands on my shoulder and say, “Piece of cake.  We’ve got this.”    
  
Beside us Christina is getting ready to direct Kira.  Kira looks a little nervous and I silently admire Christina as she talks to her in soothing tones.  Chad explains the rules a little more and then blows a whistle and we cover our eyes and one at a time are led through the maze of cones.  
  
I take out 3, my right foot catching on the edge of one and causing both me and Sheryl to stumble to the ground.  I lay there laughing, trying to catch my breath as I imagine how ridiculous we look.  We eventually make it through the course and Chad gives us a celebratory shout as we cross an invisible finish line.  
  
We move on to numerous other challenges and by the end of the day we’ve made our way back to the trust fall exercise.  We’ve come full circle.  We’ve spent hours together building foundations to friendships and it’s not a surprise that a few are comfortable tackling this last station.  Neither Sheryl nor I are ready to take that final step but nearly everyone else is.  By the last one my arm is sending up warning signals to not overdo it so I’m glad it holds out long enough for Jerry to go once more.  
  
We gather close together afterwards and Chad leaves us while Jerry takes over.  “I think you ladies have come very far today and I’m proud of every single one of you.”  He seems to have come out of his shell and he pulls us all in for a group hug.  We break apart and the group talks about heading out to get something for dinner.  I wave as I make my way towards the parking lot where I can see my car idling curbside.  Mona smiles from the driver’s seat, we’re sharing a car currently, and hands me her phone as soon as I’m buckled in.  I look at her questioningly and hear static on the line.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
I can barely hear him but my heart soars.  I press a fist to my aching sternum and smile as I return, “Hi!  Andre!”  
  
“Stormy?  I can barely hear you.  Can you hear me?”  
  
“Yes.  I can hear you.  What are you doing?”  
  
“I’ve been talking to your roomie.  I didn’t even know you had one.  I called your cell and Mona answered so I figured why not.  Hey, I heard you and Josh sorted things out.”  
  
I’m nodding as Mona pulls out into the afternoon traffic.  “Yeah.  We’re good.  Why?  What’s going on?”  
  
“He’s shooting right now and he told me you were going to call him after your session today so I figured I’d beat you to it so you wouldn’t have to talk to his voicemail.  Hey, that crazy bitch Lucy?  I think she’s plotting something.  She’s been sneaking around set the last few days.”  
  
I tilt my head curiously.  “Like what?  Why would she sneak?  She works there, right?”  This conversation is making no sense to me and I hear him crackle in and out.  His words are a jumble and then the line goes dead.  
  
I shrug and look down at the phone and nearly jump when it chimes in my hand with a text.

  
As we come to a stop I turn the the phone screen with the cryptic messages on it to face Mona.  “That was weird.”  
  
Mona shrugs, “I know nothing.  He called just as I was pulling up.  But if he went out of his way to let you know I’d say it’s probably important.”  
  
I sink down in my seat and rub my thumb back and forth across the screen.  “I guess.”  I wonder what’s going on.  And I wonder how much of a threat one kid can be.


	22. Chapter 22

**Lucy**  
  
It doesn’t take much for me to request a key-card for Josh’s hotel room.  The receptionist knows all of us by now and when I mention needing one for the room across the hall from mine, the woman doesn’t bother to ask.  She is entertaining the same idea millions of people are.  She has seen the pictures.  She has read the articles.  She thinks Josh and I are a couple.  We aren’t yet.  Not really.  But that is going to change.  
  
We have an hour before sunrise, an hour before our morning wake up call, so when I slip into his room I am already expecting the scene in front of me.    
  
The suite is dark, the shades and drapes closed tight against any filtering sunlight, and Josh lay in his bed, the comforter twisted around his lower half, his right hand splayed across his tight stomach.  His features seem harsher when he sleeps.  The line of his jaw more pronounced and the dip in his chin more masculine.    
  
When awake he wears his emotions on his face.  His eyes twinkle, his lips draw into easy grins, his eyebrows convey every thought.  I expected him to look more inviting in his sleep.    
  
I walk to the empty side of the bed, stripping off my shirt and tossing it aside.  The black lacy bra underneath is dangerously close to spilling my breasts out of the demi-cups.  My shorts go next to reveal the scraps of material barely covering my freshly trimmed mound.  I quietly pull back the sheets and crawl towards him across the bed.  I had tried this once before while being sloppy drunk and Josh had abandoned me to sleep in Andre’s room.  He’s distanced himself from me since then, Andre having brought up some girl back home.  Stacy something.  I rest my hand on the red and black ink on the side of Josh’s body and his lips part in a breath.  
  
Smiling, pleased with his reaction, I trail my dancing fingers down his ribs to his hip bone.  He arches off the bed, practically presenting me with what is probably a growing erection under the blanket.  My hand glides across his abdomen to his navel and then lightly traces his happy trail into the waistband of his boxers, my arm hidden from sight under the mound of comforter.  He’s thick and warm, soft like velvet over steel.  My hand wraps around the base of him and he says the name I couldn’t think of earlier.    
  
Soft as a prayer he whispers, “Stormy.”  And I press a kiss to his bicep and stroke him from base to tip.  ”Close.”  
  
His eyes pop open as soon as I speak and he stares at me for a pause.  His eyes look from mine to my cleavage and then I stroke him again and he looks down at my arm where it disappears from sight.  He digs his heels into the mattress and scoots backward away from me, dislodging my grip on him but trapping my hand inside his boxers.    
  
He’s panting heavily and rubbing his eyes with one hand while alternately pushing me away with the other.  ”Lucy?  What the fuck are you doing?”  He looks around the room, eyes darting to the darkened corners as if expecting someone to be hiding there.  My hand lands on his quickly deflating erection and I resume my grip.  He grabs me by the shoulders and shoves, sending me onto my back, “What the fuck!”  He scoots to the side of the bed and grabs his jeans from a nearby chair.  He’s stepping into them as he speaks, “I don’t know who you think you are but you need to get the fuck out of my room.”  
  
I pout and sit up on my knees facing him.  ”Josh.”  His name is little more than a whine and it makes me frown hearing how young I sound.  I know he prefers older women and I think about the blonde he has waiting back home.  ”Is it because of her?”  
  
He looks at me as he rubs his hands through his hair, disheveling it further.  He shakes his head as if getting rid of the last of his sleep state.  ”Who?”  
  
“Stacy or whatever.”  
  
“What?  What are you even talking about?  Why are you still here?  Get the fuck out of my room!”  He storms over to the door and attempts to open it, the chain that I slid in place hindering his movement.  It takes him a second to realize it and then he unlatches it and opens the door, crossing his arms over his broad chest.    
  
I sit where I am, staring at him.  He stares back at me and then grabs his head in his hands and lets out a primal roar, anger rolling off of him in waves, before slamming the door shut.  I’m sure he doesn’t want any casual passerby to stop and see me in here.  He storms back to the bed and grabs at my discarded clothes on the floor, flinging them at me.  ”Put your clothes on.  What is wrong with you?”  He grabs my shirt and starts dressing me as if I’m a doll.    
  
I’m stunned at this turn of events.  As my head pops through the neck hole I catch the look of disgust on his face and I pull away from him, shaking his hands off of me.  ”What’s wrong with me?”  I grab a pillow and smack him across the face with it.  ”WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?”  I toss the pillow off the side of the bed and use my hand instead, my palm connecting with his cheek and pushing with enough force to make his face turn to the side.  He’s stock still in shock and I use the moment to grab his hair with one fist and his hand with the other.  I push his fingers down my panties and rub against him, violently shaking.  He yanks his hand from my grip and pushes against my shoulders again, causing me to sprawl backwards onto my back, my head knocking into the headboard.  He looks apologetic for a second and I use that emotion to let a tear slip free.  
  
“What’s wrong, Josh?”  My eyes flutter as tears cascade down my cheeks but I can’t help the laugh that breaks from my parted lips and he blinks at me, unsure what to make of the situation.  ”Aren’t I pretty enough for you, Josh?”  I move my left hand down into my underwear and spread my legs wide so he has a clear view of my fingers as they part my sex.  ”Don’t you want to fuck me, Josh?”  
  
His eyebrows snap down and his lip curls in distaste as he walks around the side of the bed.  He grabs up the hotel phone and dials a number.  I watch him from the corner of my eye, forcing my moans louder so he has no choice but to hear me.  I listen as he speaks but he’s turned away from me and then I hear, “Security would be helpful.”  I gape at him as he hangs up.  He grabs a t-shirt from a pile of laundry near his suitcase and pulls it on, the muscles in his back distracting me.  He slides his feet into a pair of slip on Vans and grabs his phone and wallet from on top of the dresser.  He doesn’t look back at me as he says, “I’m going to Andre’s room.  Security will be up any minute.”  He stops at the door and looks back at me, his face red in what I suppose could be anger but his right cheek has a clear hand print on it and I think I probably hit him harder than intended.  A small part of me was turned on that he had restrained himself from hitting me back.  I watched his jaw tic and then he shook his head.  ”Get some help, Lucy.  And no, you aren’t pretty enough for me.  On the outside you are a gorgeous girl but on the inside you are dark and twisted.  I don’t want to fuck you.  I’ll never want to fuck you.  And if you’re referring to Stormy,” he puts a load of emphasis on her name and I shrink back from the look that flashes in his eyes, “I would advise you to not.  She’s everything.  Everything.”  He stares me down, his body clenching tight with tension, “I hope you have a good lawyer.”  And then he’s gone and I’m staring at the door that stands wide open.  
  
I frown and listen for his returning footsteps but hear nothing except the whir of the AC kicking on and rattling the ceiling vents.    
  
I’m sitting there just second later when two huge men with the word Security emblazoned across their dark shirts arrive.  I’ve curled my arms around myself and my mascara is running from my forced tears.  I have a lump on the back of my head and a bruise forming on my right shoulder.  It takes a second for me to decide how I want to play this out and I tremble my lower lip before I let out the waterworks.    
  
It’s not me who’s going to need a good lawyer.  
  


**Josh**   
  


The next few days are a blur.    
  
After my lawyers contacted me about the story Lucy was trying to pass off, I didn’t leave Andre’s side.  I needed him there for moral support but also as a witness in case anything else happened.  I filed a restraining order against my co-star at my lawyer’s advisement and watched production unravel quickly.  I wasn’t sure who the blame was going to fall to and I was prepared to be made into the culprit.    
  
My lawyers informed me the day before we left to head back to the states that Lucy had gotten a rape kit evaluation and it had come back negative.  Her story changed multiple times and by the time we landed at LAX I was glad I had been cleared of any crimes but also relieved that she was being checked into a rehabilitation center.  She needed professional help and I was glad to see her cooperating.  
  
The sensation had already hit the tabloids. Not much more than an altercation between myself and Lucy had been reported on.  With her admission to rehab rumors ran rampant that she was going into a substance abuse program.     
  
In the two days it took to fly home, I had been briefly judged and pardoned by all of Hollywood.    
  
I walk with Andre and my lawyer’s aid flanking me through the gate and down the escalator to baggage claim.    
  
Andre frowns over at me and puts a hand to my shoulder, “You okay?”  
  
I glance over at him, nodding, “Yeah.  Why?”  
  
He stares back at me, his eyebrows drawn down.  ”You keep looking around you.  Are you expecting someone?”  
  
He’s right, of course.  Since stepping foot off the plane and leaving the terminal I have been looking for Stormy.  I’ve kept her informed on everything that transpired in the hotel room and she was shocked.  She mentioned Andre warning her that Lucy was up to something and I recalled him telling me the same thing.  As with most women in my life I had been blindsided when she showed her true colors.  
  
Andre had tried to warn me numerous times in the past few weeks, stating she was pure evil and he took to calling her Lucifer on set.  Sometimes not so quietly.  
  
I had let it go, thinking he was just being his usual quirky self.  
  
Little did I know.  
  
My eyes search the faces of people as we pass. I had mentioned to Stormy what time our flight would be arriving and she had simply said she was happy I would be home soon.  
  
She hadn’t mentioned coming to greet me.  
  
My face falls as we stop in front of the carousel hauling luggage around in a wide circle.  I pull the brim of my hat farther down over my brow, my eyes shifting to the side where the paparazzi are waiting within the boundaries that they are allowed.  
  
I grab Andre’s bags first as they come around and then my own.  I hike the strap of my duffel over my head and across my chest and turn towards the exit and the mass of people waiting with ready flashes and caustic words.  I push past them, Andre shielding me with his body, and ignore the remarks flung my way.  Finally we get to the Jeep that’s been parked curbside, my aunt sitting behind the wheel.  Her eyes are bright behind her dark rimmed glasses.  Her smile is cheeky as she welcomes me home.  
  
“How does it feel to have your feet back on solid ground?”  
  
I lean forward from the back seat to kiss her cheek, Andre having already called shotgun.  “Feels really fucking good.  Now I just want to sleep for a few weeks and forget this mess every happened.”  She shares a look with my roommate and I ignore it.  They seem to have their own silent way of communicating that I’ve never understood and have given up trying to.  
  
I listen to them speak in hushed tones as I lean my head back and stare out the window at the passing traffic on the freeway.  I’m finally in the same country, same state, same city as Stormy and aside from my excitement at that thought I’m saddened that she isn’t the one picking me up.  
  
I wish it was her driving me home because the only thing I want right now is my own bed and Stormy in it.  
  
I know we are just friends, but that doesn’t change what I want.    
  
  
 **Stormy**  
  
  
I blow out a slow breath, my left hand down by my side, resting on Driver’s head.  I’m staring at the window where Caitlin is acting as lookout.  According to the text I just got from Andre they are only a few minutes away.  My throat constricts and I swallow hard, willing away the jitters.  
  
Josh is coming home.  
  
Driver is shaking in anticipation, his right side presses heavily against my leg, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as he pants.  I stroke his ears, hoping to calm him down as much as myself.  Caitlin looks over at me and holds up a finger.   
  
Josh is expecting her to be here, expecting her to stay with Driver who was brought home yesterday by Josh’s aunt.  She walks out to meet him on the porch and a quiet hush falls over the room with nearly 3 dozen people standing still as they wait to surprise their friend.  I don’t know a quarter of them but Caitlin has assured me they are all close to Josh.   
  
I hear Caitlin laugh and say, “I bet you’re glad that’s over.”  And then she pushes the door open, allowing Josh to enter first with his duffel bag.  
  
The chorus of “Surprise!” rings out through the room and he looks stunned, shocked to find so many people crammed into his living room.    
  
Andre, in on it from the beginning, slaps Josh on the back as he moves forward.  ”Welcome home, buddy.”  
  
Josh hasn’t seen me yet and Driver is still leaning on me, waiting for the signal to go ahead.  I give him a pat to send him off and he shoots towards the door, barking and prancing and jumping to meet Josh.  Josh goes down to the ground on his knees and hugs the dog, pressing his face into his neck and locking his arms around him.  My eyes water while I watch Driver’s tongue slobber across Josh’s face and any other patch of skin he can reach.  
  
When he looks up, sputtering from the tongue bath, his eyes lock onto mine.  
  
My body starts to shake, just as Driver’s had, as if Josh is my owner and I’m eager to greet him at the door.  He stands slowly, his mouth opening and lips moving over silent words.  My hands clench into fists at my thighs and I grab my lower lip with my teeth, waiting for him to make the first move.  
  
He’s propelled forward by some unseen forward momentum and his arms sweep me into his body, wrapping me up tight.  His cheek with days of stubble presses against mine and his lips are next to my ear, telling me quietly how much he’s missed me and how he can’t believe I’m here.  We’re chest to chest and thigh to thigh and I feel the reaction my close proximity has on him as he hardens between us.  My eyes close on a sharp breath and it takes everything within me to not rock forward.  
  
He groans as if he’s in pain and says in a rough voice, “Ignore it.  Sorry about that.  It has a mind of its own.”    
  
My shoulders shake with laughter and I pull back far enough to look at him.  His eyes are sleepy and wet as if he’s trying hard to hold in tears.  My forehead touches his and our noses are pressed close together when someone who sounds suspiciously like Mona says, “Get a room!”  
  
Josh laughs and leaves a quick kiss on my cheek before slinging an arm around my shoulders and looking out at his room full of guests.  Now that he’s not consumed with me his friends come up one by one to welcome him home.  They tell little anecdotes and reminisce and at some point we move to the couch where I leave him to hang out with his friends.  Driver is tucked close to his side and I’m sure they’re going to be inseparable for a while.  
  
I venture outside to where Andre and Amanda are engaged in conversation.  Mona is standing just on the outer ring of a group of friends and I sidle up next to her.  “How’s it going?”  
  
She smiles and nods her head towards a guy hanging out on the other edge of the back yard.  “I think that guy is checking me out.”  
  
I squint and shake my head.  “How can you tell?  He’s wearing sunglasses.”  
  
She smirks and takes a sip of her cocktail, her tongue doing some weird suggestive slide against the straw.  I wrinkle my nose and lean away from her.  “You have issues.”  
  
Her eyes dart over to mine.  “Me?  Look at you.  If I hadn’t broken that touching moment earlier you two would have been on the floor humping each other like your vagina is an oxygen tank and his wang dang doodle is a deep sea diver.”  
  
Josh appears behind us and repeats what she’s said, “Wang dang doodle?  Is that what they call it these days?”  
  
Mona is used to me, I’ve lost some of my celebrity shine in her eyes, but Josh is still Josh Hutcherson to her and her face flushes a bright pink and she stammers around a sentence finally blurting out, “I like your tattoos!”   
  
Josh blinks a few times, unsure where she’s going with that statement before nodding along, “Thanks.  I think.  I like them too.”  He puts an arm around me and his other around her and stands between us, looking out at the clusters of people loitering on his lawn.  Mona looks like she might pass out and she’s sucking greedily on her straw, her drink disappearing fast.  The slurping noise she makes has me leaning forward to check her out.    
  
“Look at that, I must need another drink.  Maybe something stronger.”  The liquor has clearly gone to her head because she steps out from under Josh’s arm and then stops in front of him, pointing her finger at his face, “You sir, you are not fair.  You smell good and you’re like sex just walking around all casual like.”  Her voice raises and Josh looks over at me for help.  I grin and watch her as she stalks off, verbally throwing comments over her shoulder.  I barely catch something about blue boxers but I’m already laughing.  
  
“That’s what you live with?”  
  
My eyes widen as I think about Whittlee and Rachel and the girls from therapy.  He doesn’t have half a clue.  
  
“If you think she’s wild, just wait.”  
  
He squeezes me close to his side and presses his face to my hair.  “I’m glad you’ve made more friends.”  
  
I lean my head against his shoulder and let his warmth soak into me, surrounding me with his essence.  “Me too.”  I sigh and we look  at each other, sharing a moment of quiet, before Andre draws us into a conversation.  
  
Hours later I lead the last of the guests out of the house.  Mona is passed out on the spare bed in my old room. Andre and Amanda are cuddled together on the couch, half asleep and watching a marathon of Hoarders.  Josh is in the shower, washing off two days of air travel and Driver is outside sniffing around the yard at any stray solo cups left behind.  
  
I contemplate leaving.  I should head home.  
  
I don’t want to.  
  
I bend over to pick up a paper plate, the trash bag in my other hand stretched to capacity.  Josh clears his throat from behind me and I straighten and turn.  His smile is contagious and I return it with one of my own.  He holds up a freshly rolled blunt and nods his head towards the bedroom.  “Let’s go get blitzed.”    
  
I let in Driver and drop a kiss to Andre’s shaved head.  Amanda bumps my fist with hers and tells Josh to behave, not to do anything she wouldn’t do, and he laughs and holds out his hand for me.  
  
I lace my fingers with his and let him draw me down the hall to his bedroom with the promise of weed and his company.  
  
There’s nowhere I’d rather be.  I know we’re just friends - no longer with benefits - and that’s okay by me.  For now.

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 22 1/2

 

 **Session #10: Wednesday, February 5 2014**  
  
“I saw your boyfriend got back this weekend.”  
  
I glance over at the curious faces turned my way.  A grin quirks my lips up at the corners before I can stop it and I try to wipe away the expression by correcting the assumption, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  
  
Sheryl sits down, claiming the metal folding chair beside me, and places her purse under her legs.  ”He’s just a guy that’s a friend.”  I nod at her assessment before folding my leg under me on the seat.  She bumps my shoulder with hers and I wince involuntarily at the stinging sensation that travels up my arm and across to my spine.  Physical therapy has been pushing me harder than normal as I try to build muscle back up.  She frowns, concerned.  ”Are you okay?”  Her voice is pitched low as Jerry moves into position front and center, completing our circle.   
  
I’m not really but I nod and smile anyways. As Jerry starts the group in an affirmation I follow along but my mind is on my time spent with Josh.  
  
 _Once inside Josh’s room I avoid the bed altogether. He points with the blunt towards the stack of pillows in the corner of the room under the wall of windows. I collapse onto the bundle and laugh when Josh does the same, falling into an ungraceful heap beside me.  Fresh from his shower he’s wearing gym shorts and a white t and his hair is still damp and curled up at the ends._  
  
 _I study his profile as he puts one end of the cigar paper in his mouth and lights the other. His neck is freshly shaved and I’m watching the clench of his jaw as he exhales and then inhales once more before passing it to me. He glances to the side and grabs for the tv remote._  
  
 _I let the smoke fill my lungs and close my tired eyes as I release it on a sigh. My whole body relaxes back into the pillows and Josh finds some music station as background noise before he leans back beside me. We’re on our backs, side by side, shoulders and thighs grazing. Josh reaches out his right hand to find my left and he wraps my fingers in his. I pass the blunt back with my right hand and shift closer to him until we’re pressed together._  
  
 _He scoots lower to lean his head on the edge of my shoulder and I turn my face to him, pressing a silent kiss to his head. His hand tightens on mine as he takes another drag._  
  
 _We wait until we are both high and then after the blunt has been stubbed out he speaks. “I missed you.”_  
  
 _It is my turn to squeeze his hand with mine.  Before I can respond in kind he continues. “I think I aged five years in the last month. We’re basically the same age now.”_  
  
 _I bump the side of his head with my shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened. With production.” Josh rolls to his side and rests his cheek against my healing bicep, his left arm resting across my stomach, his wide palm flat against my side, holding me close._  
  
 _My heartbeat has picked up and feels like a wild horse ready to gallop out of my chest. My thighs clench together and my breasts tingle with awareness at the close proximity of his mouth.  His lack of reply has me leaning up to look at him. His lips are parted just the tiniest bit and his eyes are closed, lashes fanning out against his cheeks. A soft snore escapes his mouth and I lay back down, letting my body soften into the pillows beneath me._  
  
 _My eyes close as I smile. I’m glad to have Josh back and I wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. I’ve just begun to slip into sleep when his arm tightens around me and pulls me as close as I can go. His heavy leg lays across my waist, pinning me down, and his arm wraps around me, holding me to the solid wall of his chest. His nose presses to my hair and his lips rest inches away from the shell of my ear._  
  
 _His breath puffs gently against the side of my neck as he sleeps and despite the arousal that shoots through my body I close my eyes again and let sleep claim me._  
  
I’m brought back to the present as Sheryl touches her hand to my arm.  I look over to Jerry who’s staring at me expectantly.  “Miss Seasons?”  
  
Christina is on my right and she coughs out, “Affirmations.” I smile at her gratefully, Jerry rolling his eyes across from us.    
  
“Loving others is easy, when I love and accept myself.”  
  
Jerry looks thoughtful.  Our homework was to find an affirmation that fit our specific situation and discuss what it means to us.  He asks, “Do you think this represents the reason you’re here today?”  
  
My shrug precedes my answer, “I guess.”  
  
He leans forward, commanding my attention.  “Do you have issues with loving others?”  
  
I frown at the question.  “Doesn’t everyone?”  
  
He shakes his head gently, “No, Stormy.  Not everyone does.”  He is thoughtful once again before he says, “I forgive everyone from my life in the past and love myself into the future.”  He is silent as he watches me expectantly.  He nods, inferring I should repeat it.    
  
I sigh and repeat him, “I forgive everyone from my life in the past and love myself into the future.”  
  
He smiles, “How does that one feel?”  
  
I repeat it over and over in my head before replying, “It feels like a lie.”  
  
Everyone around me nods in agreement.  Jerry questions, “How so?”  
  
I blinked at him slowly, unsure what he wants me to say so I voice the truth.  “I was raped.  I was raped and beaten and put in the hospital.  You’re asking me to forgive the person that did it.  A man I loved and trusted.”  I shake my head fiercely.  “I can’t do that.”  
  
Jerry clasps his hands together in front of him.  “You can and you must in order to move forward.”    
  
My teeth catch my bottom lip and I chew it as I think about what he’s said, “I like my original one better.”  
  
“What do you think your other one means to you?”  His voice is nearly resigned and he waits patiently for me to respond.  
  
“Loving others is easy, when I love and accept myself.”  I say out loud.  I ruminate over the answer as if the one I’ve already thought of is wrong.  “I think it means that whatever has happened in the past, if I can come to terms with it, I can move on.  Acknowledging it and dealing with it.”  
  
“But not forgiving?”  
  
I think about it.  Could I forgive Adam?  I think about making love with him.  I compare it to him pinning me down on my bed and taking what he wanted.  I think about the way he would wrap an arm around me and hold me close to him when we were out somewhere.  Possessively but not aggressively.  I compare it to him hitting me.  Him threatening Josh’s career with his connections to keep me docile.  Him releasing the tape of us.    
  
My eyes are watering as the anger inside of me spreads up and out and my voice is firm when I finally answer, “Fuck him.”  
  
Jerry looks taken aback but then nods and says, “Okay.”  He stares at me a little longer and then blows out a breath, “Maybe you should stick to the one you found then.”  
  
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and agree.  “That would probably be best.”  
  
He moves on to Sheryl and I zone out, tired and restless at the same time.    
  
When the session ends the girls are talking about heading out to grab a drink and although I’ve turned them down every single time so far, they still turn to me and offer an invitation.  It doesn’t take much thought on the matter for me to accept.    
  
An hour later I’m leaning back listening to Christina talk about The Hollywood Show.  She shifts her eyes to me and says, “Your man was just added to the roster now that he’s back in town.”  
  
I raise my eyebrows in interest. The Hollywood Show is a meet and greet that is set up every year where fans can go and pay to get an autographed picture of their favorite stars.  Usually the actors are from a different generation.  The big stars don’t normally take the time to do meet and greets unless they have a movie coming up.  It speaks volumes about how serious Josh is invested in his fans to do something like this.  
  
I open my mouth to respond when Sheryl slides into the booth seat beside me, carrying on a conversation with Kira who rests beside Christina.  “My lease is up at the end of the month.  I like where I live but they’re changing the pet policy.  Nothing bigger than ten pounds.”  
  
I take a sip of my margarita, “What do you have?”  
  
Sheryl turns towards me, “I have a rottie, Jade.”  
  
No one has moved into my old apartment and I voice this idea out loud. “I just moved and I know my apartment is up for grabs.  There’s no limit on pets either.”  
  
She smiles and asks, “Where did you live?”  
  
“4041.  The studio apartments on Radford right off of Ventura.  I still live there, I just moved into a two bedroom.”  
  
We settle into easy chatter at the table and by the end of the evening we’ve all exchanged numbers.    
  
As we’re leaving I text Andre and ask if he can score an extra ticket to The Hollywood Show.  His response is an immediate, “Hell yes.”  He lets me know Josh’s mom is in town and will be there as well.  I have a moment of unease but it passes quickly.  It’s not like I’m dating her son and that helps my brain rationalize that I have nothing to worry about in meeting her.    
  
I hope.


	23. Chapter 23

**Josh**

I screw the cap back onto the bottle of water and place it at the corner edge of the table.  The line formed in front of me is astounding and my hand is already cramping after just an hour of signing autographs.  There are two security guards flanking my table and my mom is perched beside me on the edge of her chair.  She’s flipping through a book, occasionally glancing up and smiling as girls clamor over each other to get to me.  She finds these scenarios amusing.  She keeps me humble.

I squint my eyes as the next flash goes off and blink away the soft blue glow left behind by bright light.  I’m trying to move the line along when my mom stands up and waves at someone.  Andre waves back as he leans to the side from his place in the middle of the line.  I frown, confused, as he disappears again from my sight.  I look over at my mom, eyebrows raised and she grins.  “What’s Andre doing here?”  

She shrugs, “I don’t know.  I guess you’ll have to wait and see what he wants when he gets up here.”

I do a mental estimate of how many people are in front of him and how long it is going to take him to get up to me.  Someone blocking him from my view leans aside and I get a glimpse of a blonde ponytail tucked up under a Reds cap.  My heart stops in my chest and my breath catches in my throat.  It’s Stormy.  I know it.  I feel it.  I reach into my pocket for my phone just as another fan steps forward.  My mom puts a hand to my arm, “Josh.  What are you doing?”  I look down at the iPhone and sigh.  She’s trying to remind me about my manners and all I can think of is texting Stormy and telling her she doesn’t have to wait in line.  She should be up here sitting beside me.  Keeping me company.

Last I had heard she was going to be busy with a bunch of the girls today and I’m not prepared to see her.  My mom has heard everything about her.  She knows that Stormy is the one.  She has warned me repeatedly to be cautious and has expressed her misgivings but she also respects my decisions.  From the knowing look on her face I can only guess that Andre has given her the heads up.  I put my phone back in my pocket and smile for the next fan.  I scrawl my name across the picture and personalize it and then the line moves forward.  There are at least two dozen people before them.  I count them down silently, anxiously, wanting nothing more than to ditch them and grab her and walk out.

I haven’t seen her since the morning after my arrival home.  

My arms move and I can feel the empty space she’s leaving in her wake so I strike quickly, my hands grabbing at the back of her shirt and pulling her back to my warmth.  Her laughter rings through the room as she turns in my grasp to face me, collapsing against me and into the pillows.  

Her smile is open and carefree and her hands frame my face gently, “I was going to come back.  I have to pee.”  I narrow my eyes at her and she rolls hers, still grinning.  “Josh, come on.  I have to go.”

With a grunt I swing a leg over her and pin her back in place, crawling between her legs, keeping an appropriate amount of space between my lower half and hers.  She giggles and places her hands on my forearms.  I can’t tell if she’s warning me to keep my distance or locking me in place to keep me from moving any further away.  When she sighs and rests back on the floor, I realize it’s the latter.  I very carefully, very slowly, lower my upper half, bending my elbows, until our eyes are level and my chest grazes hers.  Her stomach contracts, brushing against mine, and her nails dig into the flesh of the muscular ropes of my forearms.  Her breath escapes on a sigh and I swallow the sound and return it with a moan of my own that charges the air between us.  Her hips raise into mine involuntarily and I close my eyes as if in pain.  I am in pain.  I want nothing more than to sink onto her, into her, and ride her until we both collapse in repletion.  

She raises her face to mine and brushes my lips with hers, her tongue swiping against my bottom lip.  “Josh.”  I can hear the question in her voice.  The want.  The desire.  Knowing she still wants me is enough for now.  I roll to the side and throw my arm over my eyes.  I can practically hear her swallow and I groan because I can still feel her beneath me even though I’m on my back.  

She scrambles off the pillows and heads to the bathroom without another word.  When she comes back I’ve gotten myself under control and she smiles at me and reaches an arm down to help me up.  We don’t talk about it.  I let her lead me to the kitchen where she makes coffee.  The aroma wakes everyone up.  Amanda and Andre get up from the couch first and head into the kitchen, quickly followed by Mona from the spare room.

We’re all sitting around the island while Stormy whips up fluffy eggs and piles of pancakes.  I didn’t know she could cook and I tell her so.  She laughs and replies, “Just because I never cooked for you before doesn’t mean I can’t.  It just means I like it when you cook better.”  She serves us and as I’m cutting into a short stack she drops a kiss to the top of my head.  “I’m going to head out.  I have a meeting in about an hour.”

I frown up at her.  Andre speaks before I can.  “You have a meeting on a Sunday afternoon?”

I watch her eyes dart over to Amanda who isn’t paying attention to much other than buttering and pouring syrup over her breakfast, even though it’s hours past noon.  

Mona speaks up before she downs the last of her coffee.  “Therapy.  Sundays and Wednesdays.”

My mouth forms an “O” in response.  I get up from the table and walk her and Mona to the door.  I give Mona a hug, amused with the bright red blush of her face as she looks anywhere but at me.  I think it’s cute that she’s starstruck but I hope she gets over it quickly.  

The hug I give Stormy is different.  Longer.  Lingering.  She buries her face into my neck and says quietly, “I missed you so much, Josh.”

I press my nose to her temple and whisper into her hair, “Not as much as I missed you.”  Her lips curve against my skin and I shift my lower half away from her as my groin tightens in response.  “Call me after your appointment?”

She nods and pulls back, her eyes reflecting a wealth of emotion neither of us are prepared to visit at the moment.  Instead, I press my forehead to hers and say, “I know.”  She takes a deep breath and lays a palm against my cheek, her thumb rubbing the curve of my cheekbone.  

“I’ll call you later.”

We’ve talked every day but that was the last time I’d seen her.  Nearly a week ago and I want nothing more than to get up from where I’m sitting and leave my responsibilities behind.  I want to go to her.  I want to be with her.

My mom is watching me curiously as I motor through autograph after autograph.  I graciously thank each person for coming.  I’m a perfect gentleman.

My knee bounces in excitement as the line moves and they get closer and closer to the front.  

Then someone leans towards me and asks if they can have a picture and there she is, smiling at me, her head cocked curiously as she stands next in line, Andre’s arm resting across her shoulders.  

I smile and force myself to look away from her and into the camera.  The flash goes off, temporarily stunning me, and then the young girl thanks me and wanders off with her mom.  My eyes land on Stormy and my mom sucks in a breath.  I glance in her direction, questioning her reaction, and she smiles softly, “The last time I saw that look on your face.”

I know she’s thinking about the very first love of my life.  The only girl with her name scribed on my body in permanent ink.  She doesn’t have to say it.  I know and she knows and that seems to be enough because there are tears in her eyes and she sits back, nodding me forward.

At her cue I stand up and come around the table and grab Stormy in a hug.  She wraps her arms around me and laughs as I twirl her in a circle.  I catch a brief glimpse of the long line of fans that are waiting after her and they are all smiling, accepting.  I realize they probably knew the whole time who she was.  She’s famous in her own right; both of our audiences young adult girls.  

I press my cheek to hers and rock her side to side.  “It’s been a week.  Don’t ever do that to me again.”  

She says back to me, “I’m working on my book.  I’m trying to keep away from any distractions.”  She leans back and lets me support her upper body as she looks me up and down and then winks and says, “And, sir, you are one big distraction.”

I can’t help but toss my head back and laugh at her blatant flirtation.  

I hold her protectively at my side as I lead her over to the table where my mom waits.

They shake hands and Stormy nudges her way out from under my arm to properly greet my mom.  ”It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs Hutcherson.”

My mom sighs and pulls her in for a hug.  ”Please call me Michelle.”  She holds her close and says something into her ear and Stormy laughs, tightening her arms in a gentle squeeze.  

“What did you just say?”

My mom grins at me over Stormy’s shoulder.  ”If I wanted you to know I’d have said it for you to hear.”  She pats Stormy on the back and they break from their embrace and move away from each other.  ”I’ll leave you two here.  I think I’m going to have Andre walk me around and maybe buy me some lunch.”  She steps forward and kisses me on the cheek before being led away by my roommate.  I look at Stormy who shrugs and plops down in the recently vacated chair.

“I thought that was going to be a lot more awkward.”

She grins at me as I lower myself into the plush leather seat beside her.  ”Why?”

“I don’t know.”  I do know.  It’s because the woman who gave birth to me just met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.  ”I was hoping you two would get along.”

“She seems like an amazing woman.”

I lift my eyebrows at that and Stormy waves the next person in line forward.

We work into a routine.  Half the people that want my autograph also want a picture with Stormy or both of us so we entertain them.  A mom and her two daughters make their way forward and the mom gasps and digs through her purse, security straightening from their positions.  She pulls out a hardback copy of Sell Out and asks Stormy if she’ll sign it.  

I like the way she looks at me as if asking permission.  She doesn’t want to overshadow me.  She doesn’t want the attention to focus on her when I’m the one they initially came to see.  It’s a nice reminder that she isn’t like the girls I’ve dated in the past.  She isn’t using me for my fame or for the perks that being with me can get her.  None of that actually matters to me though.  I’m glad to take a backseat to her and watch her interact with her fans as well.  She’s openly happy to meet and talk to each one and she gets up and hugs everyone who asks for her autograph or picture.  

I scrawl my name across preprinted photos while she uses a sharpie on hands and arms and even someone’s shirt.

Hours pass without me realizing it and when it’s time to go we only have another dozen people in line.  Stormy turns to me and says, “We’re not just going to leave them are we?”

I look over at the stern man who is clearing everyone out.  “I don’t think we get the choice.”

There’s a round of “Aw’s!” from the left over crowd.

Just two blocks over from where we are, at the Westin Los Angeles Airport Hotel, is a Carl’s Jr and at the defeated look on Stormy’s face I move into the group of people and let everyone know we’ll be heading over there to grab dinner.

Stormy hugs me when I get back to her side, “Thank you, Josh.”

I frown at her and she reaches up to playfully run her fingers across my forehead. “For what?”

She looks over at the group of people walking beside us and then smiles at me, almost giddy.  “For being you, I guess.”

**Stormy**

Josh drives us over to Carl’s Jr since I rode with Andre.  Before going anywhere he texts his mom to let her know we’re leaving and where we’ll be since she rode here with him.  She’s quick to respond and lets him know they’re already settled in at his house and he laughs as he tucks his phone back into his pocket before starting the car.  

“What?”  I grin in return, his smile contagious.

“Nothing.”

I narrow my eyes and watch him as he concentrates on driving the few blocks, letting it drop.  

We occupy the parking lot because there aren’t enough free tables inside.  A teenage girl opens the hatch on the bed of her truck and we all pile in with our bags of food Josh has sprang for.  We sit at opposite ends of the truck and I watch him dominate the conversation.  The girls flanking him on either side keep a fair amount of space between them and him and one of them keeps glancing over at me.  I keep up with the conversation going on but I stay out of it and let him have his moment.  

The girl next to me asks quietly, “Do you ever get jealous?”

I glance over at her as I fold a french fry into my mouth.  “Jealous of what?”  I look around us, following the wave of her hand, chewing and swallowing before I answer her, “Oh.  This?”

She nods and leans back beside me, watching the girls hang onto every word he says.  “I don’t think I could do what you do.  You’re so cool about it.”

I take a sip of my Diet Coke and shrug, “Well, we aren’t dating.  So really, what would I have to be jealous of?”

She stares at me, open mouthed, stunned.  It takes her a second before she leans in and whispers quietly, “Don’t say that out loud.  Everyone here thinks you two are back together since he came back from filming in Africa.  If they knew you guys weren’t-”  Her eyes dart to the girls piled around us.  “It wouldn’t be pretty.”

I laugh and look towards Josh who is smiling back at me.  I lean into the girl at my side and reply, “I’ll keep that in mind.”  She nods, satisfied, and returns her attention to the chatter around us.

After we’re done Josh calls an end to the hangout session, getting out of the truck bed first and then holding his arms out for each girl to help them down.  We clean up the trash and there’s a hug-filled round of goodbyes.  Once we’re alone and sitting in his car he offers up the idea of going to a movie.  

I pull out my phone to check the time and any missed messages.  

“Hey.  Do I have to have you home by a certain time or something?”

I look over at him as I slide my phone back into my pocket.  “No, it’s not that.  I was just waiting to hear from Mona.  Her and Suzanne are going out tonight with a few of our friends and I know she wanted me to meet up with her later if we weren’t busy.”

Josh puts his hand on the gear shift and studies my face.  “I can take you home, Stormy.  You already spent all day with me.”

I can see the light that has dimmed in his eyes and his words don’t match his body language.  I shake my head, “No, I want to go to a movie.  I love being with you, Josh.  I just know your mom is in town and if you’d rather hang out with her-”  

His hand lands on mine, resting on my thigh, and he curls my fingers in his.  “I want to be with you.”

My tongue wets my bottom lip and his gaze drops down and follows the nervous action, left to right.  His grip on my hand tightens and then he releases me and turns the key in the ignition, checking behind him as he reverses out of the parking spot.  “So what are you up for?  Horror?  Action?”

I silently clear my throat before I reply.  We make it through the movie, barely paying attention to the screen.  We’re the only ones in the theater and instead of enjoying the movie, an animated drama about undersea creatures that looked promising in the previews but turned out flat with little plot, we’re turned in our seats towards each other, talking about what happened with him and his co-star.

“She was literally a big ball of fucking crazy.”

“Josh!”  I laugh and grab a handful of popcorn, munching happily as he explains to me how everything went down.

“I guess she went for the position opposite me because she’d built it up in her head that we were enough alike, acting from a young age, that we’d have some sort of instant attraction.”

“And did you?”  I ask him seriously and by the way his eyes leave mine I can tell he did.  I nod and clear my throat, “You don’t have to answer that.  So how had you two never met before?”

Josh shakes his head, “Apparently we had but I didn’t remember.  Her agent told mine that we met at some awards ceremony last summer during a break in wrapping up Mockingjay.  I guess it hurt her ego when I met her on set and I thought it was for the first time.”  He appears thoughtful as if he’s trying to remember meeting her.  “Who knows, though.  I think I took Jen as my date because Nick was in Europe doing a movie and when we’re together we don’t really pay attention to what’s going on around us.”

I take a sip of the large soda and then pass it to Josh’s outstretched hand and he follows with a sip of his own before placing it in the cup holder in the armrest between us.  “It really sucks that production fell through.”

He nods around a mouthful of nachos.  “Yeah.”  He swallows and wipes his mouth on the paper napkin in his other hand.  “I actually got a call yesterday that they’d like to reshoot it from the beginning.  They’re looking for someone to costar with me.”  He grins wickedly and tosses a piece of popcorn at me, “Hey, you should try for the part.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes, and pull the popcorn from my hair, tossing it back at him.  “Sure.  I can see that happening.”

His face takes on a suddenly serious expression.  “Stormy.  That’s it.  Holy shit.  You should do the film with me!  There’s no acting required because it’s a documentary of sorts.  There’s direction you have to follow for certain scenes but otherwise, you just have to be you.”

My mind is trying to wrap around what he’s saying to me.  “Josh, I couldn’t.”  My voice is thin and weak and his eyes light up as he nods.  I grab his arm and shake my head in return, “Josh, no.  That’s not the type of thing I’d do.”

He frames my face in his hands and smiles, holding my head still.  “Think about it.  Just take a few days; Hell, take a month to think about it.  It wouldn’t be tomorrow.  It would be months from now, maybe even a year.  We’d have to wait for funding to become available and there would be permits to get all over again.  They want it to happen and they still want it to be with me, but it would be a while.”  

His excitement over the idea of working on a project with me catches me off guard and I don’t know what to say except, “I’ll think about it.”  He lets out a whoop and I shove him gently, “I didn’t say yes.  I said I’ll think about it.”

He grabs me close, ignoring the food scattered around us, and hugs me tightly.  “I can’t wait.  This is going to be awesome.”  

I push him away from me and laugh, “You’re unbelievable.”  His answering smile is all I need to convince me.  

What he doesn’t realize is that his smile could persuade me to do just about anything.  And I never plan on letting him know that.

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 23 1/2

 

**Session #12: Wednesday, February 12 2014**

I prop my chin in my fist and blink sleepily as Jerry reads from a long list of accomplishments in our small group.  The damn tie dye bean bag is back out and being passed back and forth between Jerry’s hands.  After a prolonged silence, Angela sighs and claps her hands, indicating he should toss it to her.  He does and she throws it across the room, it whizzes through the air between me and Christina.  Jerry looks surprised as if he’s never witnessed insubordination.

Angela says, “I have a different idea.”  And then she leads us all outside to the parking lot.  We’re huddled around in the crisp air, using the cars as shields from the breeze blowing in off the lake behind Angelus Temple.  Jerry is standing off to the side, arms crossed in front of him like a petulant child.  Angela motions him forward.  “I want you all to tell Jerry one thing you appreciate about him.”

When no one else speaks up I roll my eyes and say, “I appreciate Jerry’s optimism.”  I can see his eyes start to water and my heart starts beating hard.  It isn’t until now that I think I understand how much pressure it is for him as well as us.  To show up here every week and put ourselves out there, talking about our issues in front of a bunch of strangers.  I step forward until I’m right in front of him and then I take his hands in mine.  As I grip them tightly I look into his eyes, lashes wet from blinking back tears, and admit, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Jerry.  Without your leadership and unending hope for each one of us, some of us might not have made it this far.”  And then I hug him tight and can’t not laugh when I feel someone press into my side and throw their arms around both of us.  Soon everyone is gathered around us and the most dysfunctional group hug Los Angeles has ever seen is in full swing.

It is Kathy who says ice cream sounds good right now and with everyone in agreement we head over to OrangeCream on Sunset.

I slide into a red and white booth with my blueberry flavored frozen yogurt and am followed by Christina.  Sheryl is across from me and Kathy slides in next to her.  At the table behind us is Lisa and Angela and Kira and Jerry.  I’ve just shoveled a bite into my mouth when Kathy says quietly, “Do you think you’ll ever be with Josh?”

I stare at her, unsure if I’ve heard that right.  In all of our meetings no one has asked me anything so personal and I take my time finding the appropriate response.  I swallow hard before I say, “One day, maybe.”

I wait for anyone else to bring him up and when no one does I take another bite, my stomach twisted into a knot.  I hate thinking about my future with Josh because I want him in it so badly but that doesn’t guarantee it will happen.  Nothing is a guarantee in life.

Christina puts down her spoon and rests her elbows on the table before clearing her throat.  “I have a confession to make.”

I swivel on the booth seat to face her as I lick my spoon clean.  

She keeps her eyes cast downward as she speaks. “I started coming to these meetings because I’m writing a book.”

My eyes widen at that and I press my lips together, stifling the surprised sound that comes up from my throat.  Everyone is completely stunned and Christina looks defeated after a full minute of silence.  Finally I throw my arm across her shoulder and pull her into my side, “We knew you were a normy.  Us freaks can spot one of you a mile away.”

She smiles at me, uncertain, and then Sheryl asks, “What kind of book is it?”  The questions thrown her way ease the tension and we all relax back into our insecurities.  Christina and Kathy trade seats so she can better talk to Sheryl and I nudge the girl beside me with my elbow.  

“How are the ‘rents?”

Kathy shakes her head and looks off to the bank of windows on the opposite side of the Yogurt Parlor.  “I think they’re going to get a divorce.”

I think about my parents, Bob and Cathy, and how I never once heard them fight.  An argument always ended in a kiss.  A disagreement always ended in a truce.  My mom’s motto was to never go to bed angry.  My dad’s was that my mom was always right.  When I asked him once why he fought with her if she was always right he told me it got the blood going.  I didn’t understand it then, but I did now and wished I didn’t.  

I lean against Kathy and we balance our weight to prop each other upright as we finish our little cups of dessert.  My voice is low when I finally respond, “Sometimes divorce is the only answer.  You just have to remember that they’re divorcing each other, not you.”

“Then why are they treating me like shit?”

I turn to pull Kathy into a hug and she sinks against me, her head on my shoulder.  Jerry and Kira reach over from behind us and rub her arms, offering their comfort.  My eyes are hot with held back tears as I rock her softly.  “They treat you like shit because they have a lot of misplaced anger.  It’s not your fault.  Their problems aren’t yours.”  She nods and we stay like that for a few more minutes until she has her emotions back under control.

There’s a knock on the glass window and we all collectively look over in that direction.  Josh is standing on the sidewalk outside, waving at us.  Andre and Caitlin are behind him, waving as well.  Caitlin notices an audience and starts pretending to hump Andre and he laughs and hugs her to him.  Lisa turns to me and says with a grin, “Friends of yours?”

My smile is my answer and I wave back.  Josh looks around at the group of mostly women I’m huddled around and he holds up his hands in a gesture to indicate he’s backing off and I wave him off once again.

He shoots us a wink and then continues walking around the corner, out of sight.

“You should have invited him in.”

“What’s he doing down this way?”

“Who was the big guy with him?  He was cute.”

“Who was the chick?  She was pretty cute, too.”

Kathy’s voice is quiet compared to the chatter that has crowded our two booths.  “You love him, don’t you?”

This time I don’t bother to think.  “I do love him.  Very much.  And one of the big reasons I’m here is that I need help to move forward.”

“He doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s.”

I glance over at the younger girl.  “What do you mean?”

She retrieves her phone from her pocket and pulls up an app.  She scrolls down a blue screen until she stops on a subtitled picture of him from an interview at some event he had Sunday night.  His mom and publicist are in the background as a faceless person asks him if he has any plans for Valentine’s day.  

I try to look at the pictures surrounding that one but she clicks the back button that sends her to the home screen.  I narrow my eyes on her playfully, “I don’t even want to know what kind of kinky shit you’re into do I?”

She giggles, a real genuine laugh, and I can’t help but laugh as well.  

“Do you think you guys are going to spend Valentine’s day together?”

“I don’t know.  And what is your obsession with that day anyway?”

She shrugs as she slides her phone back into her pocket.  “I think you should plan something.  Surprise him.  Guys like that, right?”

I mimic her shrug.  “I don’t know.  Josh seems to just go with the flow.”  I think about what she’s advising me to do.  “Maybe.  We’ll see.”

“I bet Josh is a romantic.”

I lean my head to hers briefly and return her grin with my own.  “I bet he is too.”

We clean up our area and head out of the shop.  Josh is waiting on the sidewalk in front of the building, leaning against the lime green bars of the patio fencing.  His hands are tucked into his front pockets of his jeans and his smile is welcoming as he says hello to the group of people with me.  I make the introductions and Josh either shakes hands or returns hugs depending on how comfortable people feel with him.  I stand to the side and wait for him to finish before he turns to me and holds out his arms.  Without hesitation I step into his heat and slide my arms around his middle, hugging him to me.  

He walks back the block and a half to the Temple on Glendale where we hold our meetings every Wednesday night.  His hand is tightly locked with mine and his fingers are twined through mine as we keep pace with the rest of the group.  

Jerry is at his other side and Josh asks once again, “Are you sure I’m not intruding?  I just wanted to say hi and meet everyone.  Stormy hasn’t talked about you guys but she did tell me she had met some very cool people through these sessions.”

Jerry immediately responds, “It’s no problem at all.  We’re done with our meeting today and just heading back anyways.”  Him and Josh fall into a light conversation and the rest of the girls are walking up ahead of us with the exception of Sheryl who is beside me.  

“I met with Anne.”  I glance to the brunette on my right, urging her with my eyes to go on.  “I’m moving in this weekend.”

I drop Josh’s hand and with a shout I throw my arms around Sheryl.  “You’re telling me this now?  Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

She hugs me back and then drops her arms to her sides.  “I don’t know.  I wasn’t even sure-”

Her voice trails off with uncertainty and I loop my arm in hers; breaking away from the guys and quickening our pace to catch up with the girls ahead of us.  I announce the news and as we all embrace each other I glance back at Josh. 

His eyes are squinted with his smile and he raises his fingers at me in a little wave.  I smile back at him and turn around to face the front.  I’m happy to be where I am.


	24. Chapter 24

**Josh**  
  
"Josh."  
  
I twitch in my sleep at the sound of her voice and close my eyes a little tighter so I don't wake up.  
  
Her soft laughter floats around me, weaving its spell through my half aroused state of slumber.    
  
"Josh."  
  
Her fingers ruffle through my hair and then smooth across my brow.  I have a moment of panic that that psycho bitch Lucy is back but then Stormy says in a whisper to Driver, "Do you want to help me wake up Daddy?"  
  
Driver accepts the invitation and then whines, nudging against the side of the bed.  An injury from when he was a puppy prohibits him from jumping up.  Stormy moves my hand that's resting across my chest to dangle from the edge of the blankets and Driver attacks my fingers with kisses.  I can tell the moment she turns away from me to cover her mouth with a laugh at his exuberance and I go with the moment of surprise, lunging up and wrapping both arms around her from behind and then falling backwards to dump her beside me on the bed.  
  
Her lively shout and laughter fills the air and her voice is a mixture of surprise and glee when she exclaims, "You're awake!"  
  
I press my nose to her neck and twine my body to hers, a leg nudging hers open and my arms banding her tightly to me, spooning her as close as I can.  "I've been awake since you came in the room."  
  
She wiggles against me, loosening my hold just enough for her to be comfortable and then settles back down, relaxing her back to my front and sighing into the pillow beside her face.  I press my nose and lips into her shoulder to keep the words I want to say inside.  There's something I've been thinking about for a while but I'm not sure why she's visiting this morning and I don't want to ruin the start to a good day.  
  
Her breathing evens out and I take that as a sign that it's safe to fall back asleep when Andre taps on the door.  He doesn't wait for the invitation to enter and comes in with two steaming travel mugs of what I'm guessing is coffee.  "Rise and shine, sleepyheads."  
  
Stormy groans and stretches, reaching for Andre's offering.  "I wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes."  She brings the slitted opening to her lips and takes a gentle sip.  "Oh, shit, that's strong."  She passes it to me and I realize the second one that Andre is still holding is his own.  I take a sip from Stormy's and open my eyes wide.  She's right.  That's the strongest coffee I've ever had.  
  
"What's with the wake up call?"  I look between the two of them and then grab my phone from the nightstand.  It's half past noon and I shake my head as if I can’t believe I slept that long.  "Wow.  It's late as hell.” I put my phone down and take another quick sip.  “So what’s up?"  I look between the two and Stormy reaches for the mug which I gladly give up.  
  
Andre makes no move to elaborate but says instead, "Breakfast is packed up."  
  
He exits quickly but not before giving me a thumbs up.  I laugh and sit all the way up, settling my back against the headboard.  Stormy smiles and reaches past me to put the cup beside my phone.  "I was thinking."  She grabs my hands with hers and plays her thumbs across my knuckles, suddenly nervous.  "It's Valentine's Day."  
  
I nod, aware of what today is.  "Right."  
  
She swallows and bites down hard on her lower lip.  I extract one hand from hers and place my palm against her cheek.  "What is it?"  
  
A flush rises to her cheeks and she grimaces as if in pain, "Will you be my Valentine?"  
  
My hand falls from her face back to my lap and my mouth opens, stunned.  "What?"  
  
Her shoulders fall as she lets go of me and scoots back.  "I'm sorry.  I know we aren't really-you know.  I just thought-oh, god.  Nevermind."  Her eyes aren't on me or she'd see the wealth of emotion rising up to the surface.  Her legs are already over the side of the bed and I grab the back of her plain grey tee to stop her escape.  "Josh."  She's hurting and I can hear it in her voice.  The embarrassment and pain of rejection.  "Please let go."  
  
I shake my head and tug her towards me.  "Come here."  
  
My voice is an octave lower than usual and she looks up at me in surprise.  She sees it then.  Everything.  The respect I have for her, the unending-all consuming love.  Her eyes widen as my hands pull her forward until she's facing me again.  "I would be absolutely honored."  I raise her hands to my lips and kiss the backs of one after the other.  "It would be my greatest pleasure, Stormy, to be your valentine."  The tears that have gathered in her eyes recede and her lips part on a quick intake of air as I pull her closer to me, cradling her in my lap and placing my cheek alongside hers.  "I just have one question."  
  
Her lips are dangerously close to my ear and my erection is straining upward, seeking her heat, even under the layers of blankets on the bed, "Does this include breakfast?"  She pulls back with a grin and swats at me, not expecting that.  I smile back at her and gather her close once more, burying my face into the crook of her neck playfully as I nip at her warm skin and growl, "Because I'm starving."  
  
She pushes away from me, giggling as I move to attack her again.  Finally, I have her pinned beneath me and my hips have her caged in tight.  Her eyes are light, no worries darkening them, and I can’t help myself.  I lower my lips to hers and kiss her, softly, reverently.  
  
The sound of her breath hitching and her hips straining up to mine create this kind of inextinguishable fire deep in the pit of my stomach.  Her hands are clawing at my bare skin and she’s suddenly hungrier for me than I’ve ever seen her.  She raises her face to mine and slicks her tongue against my lower lip before delving inside to seek my tongue with her own.  I lower myself fully on to her as she devours me, inside and out.  Her legs wrap high around my waist and her nails dig into my sides as she holds me down to her and I can feel her begin to rock up against me when Andre bangs on the door.  “Breakfast!”  
  
Stormy lets go of me all at once.  I take a moment to survey her appearance.  Her hair is falling from the sleek ponytail she has it pulled back in and her blue eyes look tired but aware at the same time.  Fuck me eyes.  That’s what they are.  Her lips are plump and reddened and her cheeks match her lips, pinkened in a soft flush.  Her voice is softer than usual when she says, “We should go get breakfast.”  
  
I press my erection tightly to the notch in her thighs and arch a brow when I finally say, “I thought I already was.”  
  
My attempt at honest humor breaks something free from inside her and she pushes against me, playful and forceful.    
  
“You are such a man.”    
  
I let her shimmy out from under me and stand up next to the bed.  “Andre worked really hard to put together our breakfast and I kind of have this whole day planned for us to just get away.”  She suddenly looks nervous again. I smile.  I kind of like this.  I’ve never had a girl slip into this role.  I am usually the romantic one, setting up elaborate surprises to keep the relationship fresh.  Her hands shoo me to get off the bed, “So if you would kindly get a shower and get dressed-”    
  
I roll to the side of the bed and stand up, letting the blanket fall from my waist, letting her get a really good look at what exactly was covered up under the comforter.  Her voice stutters to a halt and her eyes latch onto the one part of my body she’s never had inside her.  I let her look for a moment and then I turn and walk to the bathroom, glancing back at her where her eyes are riveted to my bare ass. “You could join me-”  
  
I catch her eye roll and can’t help but laugh as I leave her to get ready for the day.  I’m already wondering what she could possibly have planned for us.  I’m not going to deny that the idea of having her for a romantic day all to myself makes me even more aroused if that’s even possible.  
  
So when I get out of the shower and mimic her outfit by pulling on jeans and a loose tee and walk out to the kitchen where Stormy and Andre are talking softly about upcoming plans for the next few weeks, I am dismayed to find a pile of camping gear next to the couch.    
  
I nudge a sleeping bag aside with my foot, “What’s this?”  
  
Her smile is wide and her excitement is endearingly contagious, “We’re going camping!”    
  
Nearly an hour later I hike the pack higher on my shoulder, holding the strap with one hand as we slowly make our way uphill.  Stormy's ass in a pair of loose jeans that hang low on her hips is the only thing motivating me to keep climbing.  
  
She glances back to make sure I'm still with her and I know I'm caught the moment her eyes meet mine.  I grin guiltily and shrug, "I can't help it."  
  
Her laughter is strong as she shakes her head and continues upward.  It's nearly a mile hike and we're halfway there but my body aches and I feel inadequate as her pace stays strong.  Between breaths I ask, "How are you not tired?"  
  
She takes the hint and slows down just enough to match her pace with mine so I don't have to struggle to keep up.  "Physical therapy.  I have to swim laps to get the full range of motion back into my arm."  She tosses a smile towards me, "And I also started rock climbing.  Just the easy stuff for now, no upside down, but it really helps with stamina."  
  
I feel so lazy.  Even in Africa a lot of the activities we did were choreographed with a storyboard and there wasn't a lot of stunt work to be done on a safari.  This is probably the most out of shape I've been in since I quit filming Mockingjay and I say so now.  Stormy turns to look at me, eyebrows pulled down in thought, "You should come with me to work out.  It's not weight training or anything but I'd love a little friendly competition."  
  
My groin tightens in anticipation, "Do you wear little bikinis when you do the water therapy?"  
  
I can see her shoulders shake as she silently laughs, "No, Josh.  I wear full scuba gear."  
  
I bite my bottom lip at the thought of all the wet neoprene suctioning to her curves.  "That sounds even sexier."  
  
She looks back at me in surprise, my voice having gone deep and dark.  Her eyes search mine and then drop to my lips as she murmurs, "You've got it bad."  
  
I hike the bag up a little further as she turns back to face forward, gaze sweeping from the back of my reds cap covering her sun lightened hair down to the back of the flannel shirt of mine she's wearing.  She has it pulled forward and knotted at the waist, revealing the fine flare of her hips and the rounded curve of her ass as she puts one foot in front of the other, leading me to God knows where up the side of a fucking mountain.  
  
She's right.  I've got it bad.

**Stormy**

I continue onward and upward, highly aware of Josh behind me.  I don’t think I could be within a mile radius of him and not be aware of his presence.  His nearness is like a cool kiss of electric fingers rubbing against every nerve ending.  
  
I glance down at the trail marker as we pass it.  We’re nearly there, another 200 feet or so, when Josh starts singing under his breath.    
  
“Son, do you know why I'm stopping you for? Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low? Do I look like a mind reader sir, I don't know. Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo’?”  
  
I answer him with the next line, keeping up the beat, "Well you was doing fifty five in a fifty four.  
License and registration and step out of the car. Are you carrying a weapon on you I know a lot of you are."  
  
I can hear the sudden smile in his voice as he replies, “I ain't stepping out of shit all my papers legit.”  
  
My head is bobbing along with the words as I respond in a stern voice, “"Do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?"  
  
His voice has turned cocky as he raps back in Jay Z’s slurred baritone, “Well my glove compartment is locked so is the trunk and the back.  And I know my rights so you gon' need a warrant for that.”  
  
We go back and forth until we run into a snag somewhere in the middle of the third verse and neither of us can remember the line after we’ve both said out loud simultaneously, “You know the type loud as a motor bike.  But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight.”  
  
We both fall quiet for a moment and then he breaks the silence with laughter.  “We did pretty good.”  
  
I try to think back to when that song came out years before.  “Not bad considering I haven’t heard that one in a year or two.”  
  
My steps slow as we move off the trail to our camping site tucked safely into the side of the mountain.  I turn to face Josh and his eyes devour me as he asks, “Is this where we’re setting up for the night?”  
  
I nod and try to answer him but I’m having a hard time looking away from the naked desire in his hooded hazel gaze.  My tongue runs the seam of my lips and before I can suck in a breath to ask him if this spot is okay he’s on me.  His hands are shoved down into my back pockets and he’s rocking forward into me, his rapidly growing erection stroking over and over and his lips sealed over mine, tongue dancing against mine as he groans and presses closer as if there is any wasted space between our bodies.  
  
I let go of him long enough to shrug the backpack from my shoulders with our tent in it.  Josh takes this as some type of invitation and he moves his hands up to the middle of my back, bringing my chest closer to his, flattening my breasts to the front of his shirt.  Finally when I start to feel lightheaded and totally ravished I pull away, panting heavily and repeating his name.  
  
His breathing is labored as well and he stares at me shocked as if he hadn’t planned on just grabbing me to him and consuming me whole.  The bewildered look on his face catches me off guard and I start giggling and can’t stop.    
  
Josh grins and pushes me gently, playfully, before he strips off his own pack with the sleeping bag attached.  The sun is high in the sky peeking up over the tops of the houses off in the distance and I take a deep breath and relax my shoulders as I watch the hopeful rays reach out and lay a fine layer of light over anything it can reach.  Josh steps up behind me and presses his front to my back, wrapping his arms around me, and contributing to the peaceful moment of just enjoying the encroaching evening.    
  
He places his chin on my shoulder, leaning down just the tiniest bit, and I place my hands over his on my stomach and lean my cheek against his, savoring his strength and calm energy that seeps into me.  
  
His lips turn to mine and he kisses me softly, sighing.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Stormy.”  
  
I swallow my nerves down and return the rub of his lips with mine before answering, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Josh.”  
  
His grin is contagious and so we’re smiling at each other as his stomach growls loudly.  I laugh and step away, out of the comfort of his embrace, and over to our packs to get the breakfast Andre has packed for us.  Cheeses and fruits and crackers and mini quiches.  
  
We spread out a blanket from Josh's bedroll and sit on the ground facing the side of the mountain, shoulders touching in solidarity.  Finally, it's him that breaks the silence by yawning and pulling his phone from his pocket. Even as he swipes his finger across the screen to check the time it chimes with a text message. He grimaces and continues to make a face as the mountain side comes alive with a recent Mumford and Sons single.  
  
"Fuck!" He fumbles with the buttons to silence the sudden intrusion and I hold back a sigh as I push myself to a standing position. I may as will get the tent set up while he handles the business aspect of his career. He mouths an apology to me as he answers with a quick greeting.  
  
I empty the pack and start to clear a relatively flat space for the tarp and tent to go. It's a small two person pop up that will serve its purpose for now.  I insert the two poles so they bisect each other and then puff the material out so it forms a dome. I've just secured everything with Velcro straps when Josh stuffs his phone back into his pocket.  
  
"That was my agent."  
  
I'm squatting down in front of the zippered mesh door and I glance up at him, his voice laced with urgency. At the stunned look on his face I stand up quickly and grab onto him tightly.  "Josh. What is it?"  
  
He shakes his head and covers his mouth with his wide palm. "I didn't think anything of it. I'm so sorry, Stormy."  
  
I'm completely lost. I don't know what he thinks I might be upset with him for but he continues to apologize and I finally have to ask again. "What? What is it? Do you need to go home?"  
  
My worry seems to break through his reserve and he groans and shakes his head and then pulls me close to him, holding me tight. "I need you to hug me while I tell you this."  
  
My arms come up to return his embrace. "What the hell is going on?"  
  
His lips are buried in the top of my hair as he confesses, "I told the producers of the Africa documentary that you were interested in coming on board."  
  
Through his muffled words I hear what he is saying but it takes a delayed moment for my brain to digest this information. My hands tighten into fists against his back, twisting the loose material of his shirt into two angry handfuls. "You what?"    
  
Josh keeps me pulled tight against him even as I try to lean back.  “I don’t want to let go of you yet.”  
  
I heave out an irritated breath and rest my forehead against his chest, trying to calm down.  Finally I ask, “Why would you do that?”  To clarify I add on, “Why would you tell them I’m interested in doing that?”  
  
He makes a noise somewhere in the back of his throat and replies softly as he lets go of me to hold me at arm’s distance.  “They were shopping it around already.  I thought they’d wait a little longer but they want to get the process of readministering the permits to film on location rolling as soon as possible and the producers kept asking me if I had anyone in mind so I told them that I had brought it up to you and they jumped on it.”  His eyes looks worried but his lips are turned up in a small smile, “And I did mention it to you and you seemed interested in it.”  
  
I shake my head slowly, “I vaguely recall humoring you and telling you I’d think about it.”  
  
“And?  Have you?”  
  
I scoff, “No!”  At his hurt look I backtrack and grab his hands when he drops them from my arms, “Josh, please.  I don’t want you to take this personally.  It’s not about you.”  
  
I watch something shut down inside him and he nods swiftly, “I get it.”  As if that is going to make it all go away.  He glances away from me at the tent.  “So this is the set up, huh?”  
  
I watch him walk around me and head over to the circular fire pit.  He lowers into a squat beside it, his back to me, and I know he’s collecting himself.  I can almost feel him trying to reign in his emotions so he doesn’t ruin the day.  I look back out over the fast approaching sunset and scrub my hands over my face.  I know his intentions were good and I planned on giving it some serious thought eventually, but he had told me it was going to be a while before they pushed forward with the documentary.  I thought I had more time to think about it.  
  
Apparently, now would be as good a time as any and I tried to think of all the reasons not to do it.  
  
I cross my arms over my chest, hugging Josh’s worn flannel shirt to me as I work over the pros and cons.  I’ll be with Josh for months in a remote place and I can barely think any further than that.  
  
I’m not sure how long I stand there but his presence behind me forces me to turn around to confront him.  His eyes are apologetic and I can tell beneath the hurt he’s trying to work through it.  I can’t think of a plausible reason not to do it so I break the silence between us by saying, “I’m going to need a passport.”  
  
His eyes search mine, shifting rapidly left and right before he opens his arms for me to step forward as he laughs in relief.  “You don’t have to do this.”  
  
I bury my face in his neck and press my body close to his, feeling every inch of his heat.  “I know I don’t have to.  But I want to.”  I pull away just enough to look up at him and smile, “Let’s go see some wild animals and fuck shit up.”  
  
He chuckles as he lowers his mouth to mine, “Thank you.  This is pretty much the best gift you could ever give me.”  
  
“We’re not leaving soon are we?  Because I still have a book to finish and press to do and then the movie starts filming in the fall.”  
  
Josh sways back and forth with me in his arms, “They’re aiming for a year delay.  So January of 2015.”  I have no idea what I’ll be doing a year from now and I tell him so.  His voice is husky as he answers me, “Hopefully you’ll be in Africa with me, fucking shit up.”  
  
I grin and yawn and Josh gives me a light kiss before turning us towards the tent.  “Why don’t we set up the sleeping bag and take a nap.  When it gets dark we can make s’mores and tell ghost stories.”  
  
I let him lead me to the tent and then smile as he remembers to grab our packs at the last minute and tosses them into a corner inside before unrolling the sleeping bag and spreading it out.  He looks around him in confusion before asking, “Did you only bring one?”  
  
I drop down onto the soft material and pat the space beside me, “I was hoping we’d only need one.”  
  
He kicks off his shoes and then grabs my feet one at a time, untying my colorful laces before pulling off my ratty Chuck Taylors.  “I like the way you think.”  
  
I watch with wide eyed anticipation as he crawls towards me and then settles onto his side and pulls me close.  I turn to face him, studying his sleepy eyes and peaceful smile.  Because we need to talk about it, I reluctantly bring it up. “What would you have done if I had decided not to do the Africa trip?”  
  
His brow furrows and he rests his head on his bicep, his eyes never leaving mine.  “Before you turned around I had prepared this whole speech about how much I want to work with you but that if you were uncomfortable or not up for it, I would get over it.  I guess I just got stuck on the idea of us going to Africa together.”  His hand lowers to mine and he laces our fingers together, holding onto me tightly as he searches for the right words. “I just imagine how much fun we have together and that being with you every single day for two months straight, no matter where we are, is going to be an adventure.”  
  
I swallow tightly and whisper to him, “Josh?”  He blinks at me slowly and I can see he’s slipping into sleep, likely tired from the hike and our minor emotional setback.  “Thank you for being my Valentine.”  
  
His smile is catching and he leans forward, pressing his lips to mine before replying.  “Thank you for asking me.  I didn’t even know you were that into it.”  
  
I settle deeper into the sleeping bag beside him, nudging my shoulder into his chest to find a comfortable position. "Valentine's Day is just another reason to spend the day with your significant other.  I don't see anything wrong with that."  
  
His breath fans across my cheek and his eyes are closed as he half shrugs and admits, "I never figured you for a romantic I guess.  I thought you'd be among the other cynical half that believes it's just a day created by greeting card conglomerates to make money."  
  
My hand squeezes his gently and I play with his fingers, rubbing them with mine and then slowly sliding my palm back and forth.    
  
Josh peeks open an eye to stare at me.  "If you don't stop that I'm not going to be responsible for what happens next."  
  
I bite my lip, suddenly unsure of my next move.  He seems to pick up on my uncertain vibes and he places his lips to the crown of my head. “What is it, Stormy?  You can tell me.”  
  
Not sure how to broach the subject I simply blurt out the reason I brought him out here in the first place.  The whole reason I planned this outing on this particular day.  “Will you be my boyfriend?”

 **Josh**  
  
My eyes widen in surprise and I stare at Stormy.  Hers are closed tight and she’s wincing as if she’s in great pain.  I hold my breath, not sure if I heard her right.  Without looking at me or waiting for a reaction she barrels on, “I don’t know if I’ll be the best girlfriend ever or if I’ll royally fuck everything up but I really want to be with you and I was hoping you would want to give it a shot.”  Her face softens and I can see the sparkling wetness that forms on the edge of her eyelashes, tears that she refuses to let fall, and I interrupt her as she opens her mouth to spout more nonsense.  
  
“Yes.  Yes, of course.”  I push up on my elbow and raise up over her.  I trap her beneath me and hover there, waiting for her to look up at me.  Finally she blinks and opens her eyes, taking in my expression as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.  When I just smile down at her, pure joy and happiness conveying my feelings she lets out a small sound of excitement and then wraps her arms and legs around me, pulling my weight down on top of her.    
  
Her lips capture mine even as she grins and says, “That was so much easier than I thought it would be.”  
  
I kiss her back, unable to contain my own smile as I reply, “Well, you know, I’m pretty easy.”  
  
She laughs and hugs me to her tightly, avoiding my lips as she speaks candidly, “I’m not ready for sex yet.”  
  
I pull back and search her face, a little hurt that she would think that would be my first request.  “I’m not that easy.  Jeez.  You didn’t even bring me flowers or anything.”  
  
She shakes her head, grinning ear to ear, “Thank you, Josh.”  
  
It strikes me in that moment that she doesn’t know.  She doesn’t even realize how in love with her I am.  I lower my face to hers and kiss her softly, reverently, wishing she could understand exactly what she means to me.  I roll over to my side of the sleeping bag and pull her with me so she’s resting on top of me, her lips still attached to mine as she straddles my hips.  I can’t help the reaction occurring below my belt and I move my mouth from hers to apologize.  
  
“I’m sorry.  Apparently I’m not that easy but he is.”  
  
She giggles, the girlish laugh touching a place deep inside of me and settling in next to my heart.  She counters quickly, “Well, his head is much tinier than yours.”  
  
“Hey.  I wouldn’t call him tiny exactly.”  
  
She kisses me. She makes the first move; it’s sweet and simple and soft and she sighs against my lips as her body relaxes on mine.  She turns her face and rests her cheek against my chest, her head rising and falling with each breath I take.  I’m reminded of a time just a few months ago when we were in a similar situation and I play with the end of her ponytail as I hum a few bars.  She picks her head up immediately and her lips are parted, eyes wide with recognition, as she studies me carefully.  “Josh.”  
  
My name is barely a breathy syllable and I smile at her as I push the lyrics to what I consider to be our song past my lips, “I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love, I'm still looking up- still looking up.”  Her lips turn up at the ends as she places her head back down and rests against me.    
  
“You’re mine now.”  I blink up at the mesh canopy above us.  I wait for her to expand on that and she does in a tired voice, “I’m not going to give up on us either, Josh.  This is it for me.  I’m yours and you’re mine and we’re going to be together forever.”  
  
I can feel the tears push against the back of my eyes so I close them and let her even breathing comfort me and give me a kind of peace I’m not sure I’ve ever known before.  I mouth that last word, “Forever.”  I let it sink deep into me and blanket me from the inside out.  I can deal with forever.  As long as it’s with Stormy.

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 24 1/2

  
  
Session #14 - Wednesday, February 19, 2014  
  
I arrive early to the group meeting per Jerry's instructions.  He's unfolding metal chairs from a stack by the wall and carefully placing them in a neat circle.  I knock on the door to alert him to my arrival and he nods his head in greeting.  "Good evening, Miss Seasons."  
  
I swing my bag of overnight clothes back and forth from my right hand.  Mona dropped me off and Josh is picking me up after.  It will be our first night sleeping in the same bed as a couple.  My nerves are shot and I've felt sick to my stomach all day.  I know Josh isn't expecting sex, but I think about all the times we've come close to it, and I feel like I'm just teasing him. I understand the difference between us now and us a month ago is that I'm actively working through my problems instead of running away from them and him.  I clear my throat and raise my left hand in a wave, "Hey, Jer.  You can call me Stormy, you know.  I'm pretty sure we're on a first name basis now."  
  
He shrugs as if he's not so worried about my permission and I have a feeling he'll always address me formally.  He lowers himself into his usual seat and then pats the one beside him.  I slowly make my way over to him, suddenly uneasy about the conversation he wants to have.  As I sit, he clasps his hands together in front of himself and leans forward, forehead wrinkling in thought.  "Miss Seasons, as I'm sure you know next week is what we refer to as graduation."    
  
I focus on his words, nodding along.  He takes a moment to clear his throat and I have an unsettling feeling that he's stalling.  I place a comforting hand on his arm, meant to lend strength for him to get out whatever it is he needs to say.  His cheeks are flushed and he's looking everywhere but at me and finally I tap him, causing his eyes to lift to mine.  Tears flood into my eyes and I am the one who struggles not to look away.  "Just say it."  I drop my hand from his arm and rub my palms down my thighs, suddenly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.  "You're going to tell me I'm not ready yet."  Hot spikes stab behind my eyes and I blink quickly, fighting the disappointment I feel.  It's not Jerry's fault that I'm damaged.    
  
"I'm very sorry, Miss Seasons.  I spoke with your therapist and together we decided it would be best if you continued to participate in group meetings."  
  
I can hear a few of the other girls arriving as their voices carry down the empty halls of the church.  Jerry looks miserable and I turn my body towards him and hug him tight.  "It's okay, Jerry.  I knew going into this I'd be hard to fix."  
  
He pats me on the back reassuringly, "You have to stop thinking of yourself as if you're broken in some way.  It's not healthy at all."  
  
I pull away and plant a smacking kiss against his tear-stained cheek.  "I'll be fine."  I let go of him and stand up from my chair.  "I'm just going to freshen up.  I don't want the girls to see me like this and worry."    
  
I make it through the rest of the therapy session barely hanging on to my composure.  All around me everyone laughs and talks about their weekends and I think back to the first therapy session I had with my new friends.  They've come a long way. I watch Kathy as she takes advice about boys from Kira. I overhear Lisa tell Angela about a speed dating session this upcoming weekend that she wants to try out.   Christina and Sheryl talk to Jerry about graduation next week.  
  
I sit aside and take it all in.  Friends I've made who will be moving on without me. If I return to group therapy in two weeks it will be with new people. That honestly sounds exhausting and I wonder what that will be like.  
  
The time to end our last session together approaches quickly and Jerry looks at me, silently asking my permission to tell them the news. I nod and give him a half smile for encouragement.  
  
His voice breaks as he announces, "We have one last order of business before our final meeting is dismissed. If I could have everyone's attention."  
  
I watch them one by one return to their seats in our full circle as Jerry comments, "One of us will not be graduating next week." He struggles to take a deep breath and I interrupt him so he doesn't have to continue with the bad news.  
  
"It's okay, Jer." All eyes turn my way and I see Lisa pass our mentor a tissue.  I swallow hard and meet each gaze with my own, attempting to gather strength from seemingly nowhere.  "I'm not ready for graduation so I won't be at the next meeting."  
  
The room is uncomfortably quiet and a little wet hiccup from Jerry is the only noise that breaks the silence until someone else speaks.  
  
"What do not mean not ready?" Kathy, the youngest of our group, asks uncertainly.  
  
I shrug and attempt a smile that falls a little flat and a little fake.  "My therapist thinks I need a little more time-"  
  
"I'm not graduating without you."  
  
I look over at Angela in shock. "What?"  
  
She stares at Jerry, determined and defiant. "I don't think I'm ready to leave group."  
  
Sheryl coughs before she raises her hand to interject. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of some of us leaving group and others staying behind."  
  
Christina backs her as I look on, stunned. "We came here as unit. We should leave as one. If Stormy isn't ready neither are we."  
  
Jerry is full on crying and Lisa pats his back reassuringly. Everyone agrees that we're in this together and I press my face into my hands as I try to collect myself.   
  
A knock at the door commands our attention and we all turn to stare at Josh.   
  
"Sorry. I was starting to get worried. I thought you were going to be done half an hour ago."  
  
He's very careful to keep his eyes on me so as not to make anyone uncomfortable since he's trespassing on a very private moment.  I look away from him and the worry in his eyes before glancing up at the clock to see we've definitely run over schedule.  Lisa speaks for Jerry since he's still composing himself and says, “It’s not up to you, it’s up to your therapists and Stormy’s isn’t convinced she’s ready to move on with treatment.”  
  
After a chorus of complaints I clear my throat.  “If it’s okay with you guys I’d still like to be there for you at graduation.”  Jerry nods to assure me that’s a fine idea and Lisa calls an end to the meeting.  
  
I stand up to a waiting line of hugs and as we say our goodbye’s, Josh moves further into the room.  I step into his embrace and he places a kiss on the top of my head.  “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
I nod because I do.  No secrets.  No shame.  I want him to know everything going on in my life.  Especially now that he’s a part of it.  “I’ll tell you about it on the way.”  
  
He lifts his hand in a wave at Jerry as we walk out of the room, cuddling me close.  “Do you want to stop for dinner?”  
  
He leads me out to his Jeep and I shake my head, “Can we fix something at home?”  
  
He opens the passenger door for me and holds a hand out, helping me up.  He leans forward before I buckle in and frames my face in his hands.  “We can do anything you want to do.”  
  
I’m emotionally wasted and I want to hold and be held and I tell him so.  He kisses me softly and smiles, “I really like this relationship stuff.”  
  
I grin back at him and run my fingers through the shaggy length of his hair.  “We’re getting good at it.”  
  
He gives me one last kiss and then shuts my door and runs around the front to get in on the drivers side.  He replies, “We’re going to be fantastic at this shit.”  
  
I laugh as he turns to smile at me and wink.  I settle back in my seat and think he’s likely right.  I’m in it for the long haul and I know he is too and that’s what makes a difference.  That’s what makes me want to work for it.


	25. Chapter 25

 

 **Stormy**  
  
I fell asleep with Josh’s arms wrapped tight around me.  His breathing synchronized with mine.  His hands possessively holding me to him.  
  
I wake up to an empty bed and a moment to reflect on the group therapy session from the night before.    
  
I’m not going to graduate.    
  
It is a gnawing hollowness that continues to eat at me.  
  
Last night I had curled onto my side, facing Josh as he spread his fingers through my hair and pushed a stray blonde lock out of my face.  He assuaged my fears by telling me everything would be fine, assuring me that we’d get through it together because that’s who we are.    
  
So this morning, I stare up at the ceiling and let the tears run from the very corners of my eyes as I think about the work set out ahead of me.  I wonder if my struggle for normality will ever stop.

 

More than once I wonder what my life would have been like had I not washed Josh’s number off my arm.  What would have happened if I had called him and agreed to go out with him.  I have to believe I would have written a book either way.  I know that this other world lives inside of me and there’s a story that needs to be told that only I can tell so I don’t doubt that aspect of my life would be any different.  
  
I imagine dating Josh while he goes away to film for a six month stretch. Would we have made it? Would we still be together now, nearly a year later?  
  
I don’t know the answer to those questions. And that makes it easier to accept what I went through.   
  
Not that I think I deserve it. Nobody deserves that. But it wasn’t for nothing. I’m getting stronger every day. I survived the worst. And now I have the best.  
  
Josh bumps his hip into the door to enter the room, his arms laden down with a tray balanced on his hands.  His smile when he notices I’m awake is why I cover my face and start crying.  
  
He’s to me in a flash, the tray having been deposited somewhere, probably the nightstand.  His hands gently pull mine away from my face and I stare up at his blurry face as I sniffle.  
  
“These are happy tears right?”  He leans down and kisses one wet cheek and then the other.  “Because if you’re waking up in my bed with sad tears I’m going to blame myself.”  
  
I shake my head and raise my arms, pulling him down closer to me as I choke out, “They’re very good tears.  I just saw you and realized how lucky I was.”  
  
His lips press to my shoulder, my neck, and then to my own quivering lips.  “We’re both lucky, Stormy.  Don’t forget that.”  
  
I nod even though I don’t believe it for a second.  Josh is the prize in this relationship.  I’m sure everyone but him can see that.  I understand why he feels that way but I don’t agree.  Not that I’ll let that ruin our morning.  I take a deep breath and nod more firmly.  “Okay.”    
  
He pulls back, already grinning and it’s contagious so I can’t help but smile back.  “I made you breakfast.”  
  
Inadvertently, my stomach rumbles and I lick my lips.  “Is it something sweet?”  
  
My voice, throaty and sultry, awakens something in him and his eyes darken as he stares down at me.  “What did you have in mind?”  
  
The air around us is charged with tension and I open my legs, hook a foot around his knee and pull his weight down.  I whisper seductively, “I just want a little taste.”  
  
Josh groans and lets me pull him to me where he fits securely in the notch of my thighs.  We both moan at the contact of him right there, right where I ache for him the most, and as he surges against me I find his mouth with mine and dive into his depths.  He consumes me with his want.  I feel him, not just down below, but inside where I crave his touch.  Right inside my heart where I feel the deepest.  
  
Something slows for both of us and as his tongue meets mine in languid thrusts I smooth a hand down his broad chest to the waistband of his boxers.  My fingers hook into the elastic, touching to the so soft skin of his hip, eliciting a growl to rumble up from his throat as he takes me deeper and deeper.   
  
I don’t dare go further.  I want it.  But I know Josh.  We had come this close days before after waking up together entwined in a sleeping bag.    
  
His eyes are open and on me, silently watching, and I smile slowly as I wake up completely.    
  
“Hey there.”  
  
His lips part on an rough exhale as I turn to face him and my hip bumps into his erection.  “Fuck.”  
  
I watch him watch me and simultaneously we dive at each other.  His lips part mine as he rolls me under him.  His legs part mine until he’s nestled into the notch of my thighs.  His sex is heavy and hot and I’m wet and needy so I beg.   
  
“Josh, please.  Oh god, please.”  
  
He has my jeans unbuttoned and the zipper is down before I know for sure what he’s doing.  And then his fingers are on me and in me and I can’t help it.  I shatter almost immediately, shaking and yelling his name.  The dark interior of the tent and the warm nylon of the sleeping bag adding to the atmosphere.  His fingers are pushed as far into me as they can go while I clench around him, my orgasm relentless.  
  
“Stormy.”  I look up at him then, clearly taking in the pained look on his face, and I instantaneously attack his jeans even as my hips rise and fall against his hand.  In a matter of minutes I have a firm grip on him and I’m jerking him off with a twist of my wrist.  In an excruciatingly slow movement he pulls his fingers out of me and out of my panties to wrap a fist around his shaft, right below my grip.  Our fingers combined around his cock is hotter than the depths of hell.  The slick cream from my pussy coats his hand, his staff, and my palm on every downstroke.  
  
I find then that I could likely come just from watching his face as he nears his own climax.  He says my name over and over until he collapses on top of me, his lips pressed to my cheek as our breathing labors and he continues to pump into our combined fists.  “Oh, fuck.  Fuck, baby.  I’m right there.”    
  
I turn my head, nudging his face to my shoulder so I can have access to his ear, and then I bite down on his earlobe and whisper, “Come for me, Josh.  I want it so bad.”  He shudders, groans, stiffens above me as if readying himself for the first wave so I say a little louder, “I want you in me, so deep, where I can hold you tight while you fuck me hard and fast.”  I tighten my hand around his shaft and turn my grip under his, my thumb dragging up along the thick vein on the underside of his dick to the velvet head where I flick the back of my thumbnail against the tiny bundle of nerves and with a curse against my shoulder he comes, his hot seed jetting onto my stomach, where I have lifted up my shirt to suit his aim.  
  
Afterwards, he strips me of my shirt and cleans me off with wet wipes I had packed.  He kisses every inch of my bare skin, paying special attention to my breasts, before helping me into a plain white shirt he had brought along.  It hangs off my shoulder, exposing my skin as we sit beside each other on the log aside the fire pit where we make s’mores and lick gooey melted marshmallow from each others fingertips.  
  
After the fire is out and we crawl back into the tent, into the sleeping bag, and stare up through the mesh top at the black sky and the mass of stars overhead, he speaks to me in the dark, “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t want you.  Because I do.”  He places my hand he is holding to his erection to prove his desire for me.  Before I can curl my fingers around him he moves our hands to his chest.  “I constantly want nothing more than to bury myself deep inside you and stay there for forever.”  I swallow and shift my eyes from the stars above to the star beside me, his face dark in the shadows as he speaks to a place inside my soul.  “But you’re not ready.  And neither am I.  Not yet.  Soon, but not yet.  And when I do finally get inside of you, it’s going to be something special.  It’s going to mean more than it ever has before with anyone else.  That first time we are going to make love.”  I moan lightly because he makes it sound so good and I think perhaps I am ready now despite what I said earlier to him.  And then his voice turns deeper and rougher as he adds, “Because after that I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”  And I laugh and roll to my side and press a kiss to his bicep before he lets go of my hand to curl his arm around me and hold me against him.  
  
We talk about what our new relationship status means in the broadest terms and as we fall asleep curled into each other he says sleepily, “You smell like marshmallows and that makes me horny.”  
  
His soft snores that follow punctuate the silence and lull me to sleep.  My smile small and secretive.  
  
He pulls back, breathing heavily and trying to get control of himself.  His smile is pained and I frown as he pushes himself up and sits to the side of me.  “You got your taste.  Now I’m going to feed you the actual food.”  
  
I scoot back, stacking pillows behind me so I can lean against them comfortably.  Josh procures a bowl of fruit from the tray and after plucking a lone grape from the bunch on the vine, he pops it into my mouth.  We’re leaning into each other, feeding each other from our hands, when my phone begins to buzz wildly from the discarded jeans on the floor.  
  
Josh gives me the bowl and then leans far over the edge of the bed to wrestle with my back pocket before finally freeing my cell.  He glances down at the read out and hands me the phone with a sudden scowl on his face.  
  
“It’s for you.”  
  
He tosses it at me and then takes back the bowl of fruit before getting up from the bed in one swift move.  I watch him instead of answering the phone because I’m more interested in what his problem is.    
  
Finally the call goes to voicemail and Josh glares at me over his shoulder.  “Why didn’t you answer it?”  
  
I look down at the forgotten call, my touch screen now dark, and then back up at him.  “Why are you mad all of a sudden?”  
  
He angrily pulls on a pair of jeans and I curl my legs up under me, more curious than uncomfortable.  A sudden knock on his door stops him from answering me and he yells in frustration, “What do you want?”  
  
Andre says through the door, “Jeez.  I didn’t want to interupt but I tried calling and you didn’t answer.  A letter came for Stormy and I-”  
  
Josh pulls the door open, “You what?”  He looks back over at me, confusion and embarrassment coloring his cheeks in red splotches.  “Andre is listed in your phone as Loverboy?”  
  
My eyes widen at what must have happened and I grab my phone from in front of me, laughing in surprise.  “No!  Josh.  You are Loverboy #1.  Well, the home phone is.  Your cell is Loverboy #2.”  I unlock the screen and slide my finger across my missed call alert.  I laugh out loud, unable to contain my amusement.  “You thought I had someone other than you listed in my phone as that?”  I get up on my knees and hold my arms out to him, beckoning him back to the bed.  “You owe me for even thinking it.  Get over here right now.”  
  
Josh rubs a hand through his hair sheepishly even as he walks towards me slowly.  “I’m sorry, Storm.”  
  
He crawls up to me and wraps his arms tight around my body, the blanket keeping us from getting any closer.  “It’s okay, Josh.”  I place my lips to his and we force ourselves apart at Andre’s groan.  
  
“You two are absolutely disgusting in the cutest way possible.” He strides towards us and tosses a padded envelope onto the bed.  “This came for Stormy.  I thought it was weird that it was delivered here but who am I to judge with the crazy shit that goes on in this house?”  He leaves the room just as quickly, the door closing with a soft click.  
  
I reach forward and grab for the brown envelope with no return address at the same time that Josh maneuvers himself under the covers, the denim of his jeans rough against my legs as he rains kisses over my face and neck.  I giggle and turn away from the onslaught, interested in what might have been delivered to me here instead of at my own place.  
  
I pull the tape strip off just as Josh’s hands play with the hem on my sleep shirt, his fingers stroking across my navel rhythmically back and forth.  I’ve just pulled a second flatter white envelope from the bigger one and turned it over in my hands to see what was written on the front of it when the handwriting knocks the wind out of me and I’m suddenly gasping for breath, pushing Josh off of me as I struggle to inhale.  
  
He sits up, panic stricken as he watches me thrash beneath him.  “What?  What is it?”  He’s off the bed in a flash and pulling me up with him, running his hands over me to try to figure out what’s wrong.  
  
My mouth opens and closes but I can’t breathe-can’t speak-can’t do much of anything except claw at my neck, desperately.  Josh finally pushes me to sit on the bed and with enough force on my back to fold me over he holds my head down between my knees.  “Breathe, Stormy.  Focus and breathe.”  
  
I finally drag air into my lungs and when I’m sure I can speak again I sit up, tears streaming down my face as I grab onto Josh’s bare skin.  “Stormy?  What’s wrong?”  
  
I sob as I stare into the face of the man I love and choke out the answer.  “It’s Adam.”  
  
 **Josh**  
  
I stare at her; certain I misheard. “What?”  
  
Her skin is pale and her hands shake as she holds the still sealed second envelop out to me. I look down at the name scrawled across the fine white paper. It’s slanted cursive, masculine but neat. It’s just her name.  ‘Stormy’.  Nothing else.   
  
I turn it over in my hand and move to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. I stare down at this simple piece of mail that has changed the playful feeling of the room to one of trepidation. It angers me. A lot.  
  
He isn’t allowed to touch what we have. I won’t let him.  
  
I slide my finger under the flap and do what she couldn’t bring herself to do.  
  
She doesn’t ask me not to read it.  Doesn’t even question it.  So I reach in and pull the small rectangle of paper free and unfold it, Stormy’s hand curled around my knee as if she needs something to hold onto.  
  
I am glad I am a decent actor because I have to distance myself, pull back and play pretend, to keep my hands from shaking and maintain a steady voice.

  


  
  
One second I’m staring down at the letter and the next Stormy has it in her hands, ripping it to pieces.  ”Fuck him and fuck his apology!”  She screams out loud as she tears and shreds.  I sit beside her patiently, waiting for her to calm.  When she throws the pieces of remaining paper on the floor I place an arm around her and pull her into my side.    
  
She turns into me, collapsing, clinging to me while she sobs. She holds on tight while I place my cheek to the top of her head.  We sit like that for a while until she’s empty of tears.  Finally she pulls back and averts her gaze from mine, looking down at the floor instead.  ”I’m sorry.”  
  
An apology from her is the last thing I expect and I rub a hand up and down her spine, soothing her.  ”Why would you say that?”  
  
She sighs and throws her hands up in the air.  ”Because you deserve better than this shit, Josh.”  She turns to face me then, her eyes searching mine, regretful.  ”I’m trying to get better.  I am.  But stuff like this is always going to happen.”  She shakes her head when I reach for her.  ”I feel like I’m always going to be bringing some type of drama to your door and I don’t want that.  I don’t want to be the reason for it.”  
  
I ignore her soft protests when I reach for her again.  ”You think you’re the only one with issues, is that it?”  I brush her hair away from her face.  ”Do you want to hear about how every girlfriend I’ve had has cheated on me?  How they think I’m too nice or too soft and they prefer to be with some asshole who treats them like shit?”  
  
She wipes her face with her hands, “No.  I don’t want to hear about your exes.”  
  
“Because they don’t belong in our relationship.  They are the past.”  
  
She half laughs-half cries out a response, “Because I want to kill every single one of them.”  She pushes me with the flat of her hand as if emphasizing a point.  ”They didn’t deserve you.  They had you before I did and they didn’t appreciate you.  But most of all they got to be with you.  All of you.  I hate that.  I absolutely hate it.”  
  
I grab her hand with mine and pull her a little closer.  ”But I’m yours now.  And you’re mine.  And that’s that.”  
  
She inhales shakily and nods, “Yeah.  That’s that.”  
  
I take her lips in a crushing kiss, reaffirming that it’s just us here and no one else.  Her appetite matches mine, voracious and all consuming.  I pull her into my lap and separate our lips long enough to say “Wrap your legs-”  I don’t have to finish the sentence because she immediately obeys and I stand with her clinging to me.  I make it into the bathroom, into the shower, and I turn on the multiple shower heads, making sure the water is warm enough, as she peppers my neck and collarbone with small biting kisses.  
  
I maneuver us under the massaging spray and she lowers her feet to the ground long enough to pull my shirt off over her head and shimmy out of her boyshorts.  She’s suddenly bare to the world and standing in front of me completely nude.  Our eyes lock onto each others and her hands drop to my soaking jeans.  She unbuttons and unzips me and then her fingers dip beneath the denim along with the cotton of my boxers and travels across my hips to my ass where she pushes the material down and off.    
  
She seems to understand that we’re washing away whatever stain Adam has put on our moment and we stand there, arms around each other as we let the water cleanse us.  
  
We lend each other strength until I can feel her resolve harden.  When she picks her head up from my shoulder and looks into my eyes I can tell.  She’s back.  And she isn’t going to let what we have be tainted by him.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
I smile because there’s no reason for her gratitude.  But I answer her with her a kiss because she’s against me and she’s wet and I’m hard and she’s so soft.  When her lips part and she kisses me back it’s as if the world no longer exists.  We’re the only two left on the planet.  And I know that this feeling of being one with someone is never going to go away.  
  
I’ve found my other half.  And I hope she’s found hers in me.

 

 

* * *

* * *

Chapter 25 1/2

“So if you aren’t going to graduate why would you go?”  
  
I step forward as the line moves up.  Mona is standing tight against me, fearful of stepping out of place and being called a line-cutter.  She has some very strange hang ups from her past time of living in New York and I try to explain to her that people aren’t as uptight here as they are on the east coast.  The laid back attitude of California hasn’t quite soaked in yet but it will.  I’m confident.  Until then, however, I’m stuck with her weird tics she’s picked up from the Big Apple.  
  
I sigh, shifting my arm that she’s got hooked tightly through her own.  “It’s supportive.  It feels like the right thing to do.”  
  
She scoffs but I know she’s just playing devil’s advocate.  She changes the subject quickly by saying, “So how is Josh doing?”  
  
I stiffen and look at her from the corner of my eye.  “Fine.  Why?”  
  
Her eyes dart to a corner of the coffee shop and back towards the counter and we step forward as one, progressing closer to my destination of coffee.  
  
She shrugs and her eyes shift away and I finally look off in the direction she does.  I find him immediately, just seconds before he turns his head and sees me.  There are two women with him, both leaning into him on either side, sitting uncomfortably close.  I don’t know who they are but I can tell by the way his foot is tapping under the table that he’s bored.    
  
That lasts only long enough for him to gather himself at the surprise of seeing me.  His smile widens, curving lopsided, and then he’s out from behind the table, excusing himself, and striding towards me.    
  
His arms open a moment before he catches me in a hug, lifting me until just my toes are on the   
ground.  As my heels touch back to the earth, so do his lips land on mine.  The exchange is sweet and fleeting and perfectly G rated and I can’t help but scrape my teeth against his bottom lip as we part.  His eyes narrow on me under the bill of his/my cap.    
  
I smile and give him a quick squeeze before stepping back, his arms still around me just looser.  
I glance over at Mona whose cheeks are flushed.  “Don’t look now but your associates appear to be super pissed.”  
  
Josh and I both look over at the table he deserted.  He turns back to me and rolls his eyes.  “They’re trying to talk me into doing a guest spot on this movie they’re shooting.”  
  
I tilt my head curiously.  One of them looks strikingly familiar but I can’t place her.  “Have you worked with them before?”  
  
Mona whips her head to look at me as if to ask if I’m really that dense.  Josh lowers the brim of his cap over his eyebrows as we move forward a little more.  “Uh, yeah.  A while ago.”  
  
My roommate shifts her eyes towards my boyfriend and her eyebrows reach into her hairline as she stares at him.  They seem to have a silent exchange before she finally hisses, “You tell her or I’m going to.”  
  
I watch their exchange with interest until Josh says, “Just so you know, Stormy isn’t going to care about that.  I know her pretty well.”  
  
Laughing, I interject, “What?  Did you fuck them too?”  
  
It was meant as a joke but Mona stiffens beside me and Josh’s eyes are downcast and his cheeks are flushed.  I lean around him, checking out the two brunettes who are checking out me.    
  
After a brief pause I shrug, “They’re cute enough, I suppose.”  
  
Josh stumbles over his response. “It was a lifetime ago.”  
  
I lean in and place my lips to his cheek, “You’re not old enough for it to be a lifetime ago.  But nice try.”  But I keep my arm around him and lean against his shoulder as he stands with us.  
We’re quiet and when it’s time for me to place my order I do so very calmly.    
  
Josh moves us down the counter to where our cups will be delivered and he asks, “Are you okay with this?”  
  
I turn that over in my mind before replying, “With you meeting them for business or with you taking a job that will put you in close proximity.”  I step up to him, aligning my hips with his as I wind my arms around his neck as if hugging him goodbye.  “Because I’m only okay with one of those scenarios.  I’m your girlfriend and currently I’m within range of someone who has had your dick inside of them.  It’s costing me a lot of willpower not to take you down to the ground in front of these fine patrons and fuck you until neither of us can walk.”  
  
Josh’s breath hitched somewhere during my monologue and now I can tell he’s stopped breathing altogether.  My cheek is still pressed against his, but out of the corner of my peripheral I can see his eyes are closed as if he’s savoring those words.  His hands rest on my hips and they tighten just enough to let me know my words have hit their mark.  I press another kiss to his cheek and step back, retrieving my cup from Mona’s outstretched hand.  
  
I place the palm of my empty hand to his chest and stare into his eyes, dark with lust.  “I’ll see you later, right?”  He swallows tightly and reaches for me with determination but I move my hand up to his face and brush my thumb across his lips.  “I have to go or I’ll be late.”  
  
His lips purse against the pad of my thumb and he kisses me softly.  “Have a good time.”  He sighs and glances over in the direction of the two girls who are talking to each other.  “I’ve got business to take care of.”  
  
I once again step into his arms and lean my head against the solid wall of his chest for a few seconds, just taking him all in.  His arms hold me gently and he rocks me side to side, a move I’ve noticed is not intentional.  “Want me to walk you out?”  
  
Mona grabs my arm and gives a pull on my sleeve.  “No.  Jeez.  We’re fine, Josh.”  We both turn to look at her and she shows me the time on her cell.  “I swear you two are so embarrassing.  I never know if I’ve got to corral you to a corner so you can rip each others clothes off in semi privacy or if I should just let you get it on and charge admission.”  
  
I laugh and let her pull me to the door.  
  
Josh watches with a smile on his face.  He’s warming up to Mona’s quirkiness and her random outbursts.  He calls out, “I’ll see you tonight.”  
  
I hold up a peace sign just as the door shuts behind me and Mona drags me along with her to the car.  “Now, I can’t stay and wait because I have an appointment myself.  But I’m sure you’ll be fine.  More than fine.  Better than fine.  You’ll be good.  Great, even.”  
  
I listen to her ramble as I buckle myself into the passenger seat and she pulls out into traffic.  It doesn’t take us long to get to the trust camp facility that we have been to on a previous occasion.    
  
Jerry had decided to make this our final challenge.  We had to start trusting ourselves before we could trust other people.  It was a team building exercise but more than that it was to prove to ourselves that letting other people in wasn’t always a bad thing.  
  
Mona pulls up to the curb to drop me off just as our muscle bound director, Chad, is walking past.  He smiles when he sees me and jogs over, whistle hanging from the cord around his neck and bouncing against his pecs.  He pulls open my car door and holds it for me as I get out.    
“Stormy, right?”  
  
I nod and shake his hand.  “That’s me.  How’s it going, Chad?”  
  
He turns his head back and forth a few times.  “It’s going, that’s for sure.”  His clipboard is tucked under his left arm and we back away from the curb waiting for Mona to pull away.  
  
It is Chad who notices she isn’t going anywhere.  “Is your friend okay?”  
  
I do a double take over my shoulder and realize the car is still sitting curbside.  Finally, I bend down to look in the window at Mona.  “Mona?  What’s up?”  
  
She is staring straight ahead, hands frozen on the steering wheel.  “I think I just came.”  
  
I frown and lean in through the open car window.  “I’m sorry, what?”  
  
She turns her head slowly to look at me and bites into her lower lip, emitting a moan as her cheeks blush a furious shade of red.  “The big O, Storm.  I’m pretty sure I just had one.”  
  
I can’t stop  myself from glancing down to her lap.  Her thighs are clenched together and her knees are locked tight.  “Uhm, do you have on vibrating underwear or something?  What-How does that happen?”  
  
I take a quick step back in reflex when she throws her hands up.  “Hell, I don’t know!  Maybe because my vagina is a freaking wasteland and Mr. Hottie is running all around with his dick flopping up and down in those shiny red shorts.”  I fall into a squat beside the car because I’m laughing too hard to keep upright.    
  
“Would you like me to introduce you to Chad?”  I barely get the words out because I can’t stop giggling and Mona glares at me.    
  
“Can you atleast wait until I’ve had a chance to go home and change my panties?  Because I swear they are wetter than a porn stars eyes when she’s forced to swallow cock.”  
  
I shake my head and stand up, pressing my hand over my mouth.  “Oh my god, Mona.”  I back away from the car.  “You’re going to be late to your appointment.”  
  
I hear her huff out a breath.  “Okay.  I’m going.  But when I pick you up I want an intro.”  
  
I give her a wave and trot over to where Chad has joined Jerry and the ladies from group.  
  
The group is complete with my arrival and according to Chad’s clipboard we’re right on schedule.  He leads us on a short hike through the woods to our first station.  He calls this one “Stiff as a Board”.  
  
Christina mentions doing this when she was a kid at sleepovers and volunteers to be the board.  She lays down on the yoga mat on her back and cross her arms over her chest.  Chad reminds us that the point of the exercise isn’t whether we lift her per se.  It’s more about working together in a certain frame of mind.  We’re instructed to gather around her in a circle on our knees and place the tips of our fingers just under the edges of her body.    
  
We close our eyes and then Chad asks us to recite, “When I believe in myself, so do others.”  
  
We chant that affirmation repeatedly and just when I’ve cracked open an eye to look at what is happening, Christina flails and we let go.  
  
Chad is smiling at each of us from where he has been supporting her head.  “That was awesome guys.  Did anyone feel like Christina was floating?”  At most of our nods he claps his hands.  “Excellent!  What you just experienced is a major bonding element.”  
  
Kathy, the youngest of our group, raises an unsure hand.  Chad signals to her with his chin, “Yes, Kathy?”  
  
She looks down at Christina and then back up at Chad.  “So was she floating?  Because she felt so light.”  
  
Chad’s smile softens, “It’s all just a trick of your mind.  Even our guinea pig felt like she was off the ground.  That’s why she moved.”  
  
Christina shrugs and sits up.  “I felt totally weightless for a second.  It was pretty cool.”  
  
Kathy asks if she can take a turn and we all encourage her to trade places with Christina.  
  
It doesn’t take long for us to fall back into the chant and this time we close our eyes and even after it feels like she’s floating we stay concentrated on the task of keeping her up in the air.  When Chad realizes we aren’t going to let go, he instructs us to lower her safely to the ground and we do, and then we open our eyes and smile at each other.    
  
Our excitement building for the next challenge, we get up and follow Chad down another path to a clearing.  Yoga mats are rolled up and leaning against the base of a tree nearby and he in instructs us to lay them out side by side and end to end until we form a large square.    
  
After some sorting through names I am paired with Kira and we are asked to sit in the middle of the square with our backs to each other.  
  
“Now I want you to link arms and attempt to stand up.”  
  
I think about the strain I’ll be putting on my shoulder and grimace but comply.  After a few minutes of shifting back and forth and giggling madly, Chad finally comes over to crouch beside us.  “You both need to trust the other.  One of you be the leader and the other follows.  Stormy, why don’t you let Kira lead?”  
  
I nod and sit still, waiting for Kira to nudge me in the right direction.  Once I fully place my trust in her the exercise goes smoothly and we are able to stand up with no other issues.  Chad applauds us and then adds Lisa and Sheryl to the mix, having us return to our seated position.  I leave my left arm linked to Kira who still has her back to me.  I link my right with Lisa and Sheryl sits behind her but beside Kira.  Chad tells us to let Sheryl be the leader and we follow her approach.  It’s a little harder to do with four people but soon we are standing and smiling at each other over a job well done.  
  
We keep doing this until all seven of us have accomplished it together and we’ve all had a chance to lead.  
  
By the end of the exercise Jerry and Chad are cheering us on and we are led towards the trust fall platform we have used before.  And with great reluctance if I remember correctly.  We’re all amped up and it’s basically a series of us gathering and excitedly convincing someone to go.  Amid a chorus of “Ready to fall!” followed by “Fall on!” one by one we let go.    
  
Last time we did this neither Sheryl nor myself had taken the leap.  We look at each other warily now, silently nudging the other person to go first.  She’s stubborn and I like that about her and that is why I give in.  Relenting to my fate, I walk up the steps to the platform of doom.    
  
Chad is excited as he tells me how to stand.  “Back to the edge, arms crossed over your chest.  Announce when you’re ready and then don’t hesitate.”  
  
I step to the edge and peer down at the sea of faces.  These women all looking back up at me, every single one of them I’ve come to know and love and trust.  With a shaky smile and tears in my eyes I turn my back towards them and with the heels of my converse resting against the edge of the platform I think about all of them graduating but me.  Every single one of them strong enough to move on in their lives.  
  
I’ve been to my therapist since Josh and I began dating.  She doesn’t think it’s healthy for me to rush into anything just yet.  I told her that me being with Josh was non negotiable and she would just have to deal with it.  
  
I didn’t notice any outward reaction from her but maybe she is right.  Whether she is or not, is of no consequence now.  I have Josh and I’m keeping him.  
  
Behind and below me I hear Sheryl softly say my name and I clear my throat loudly before I say, “Ready to fall!”    
  
At their answering, “Fall on!”  I tip myself backwards and freefall into the waiting arms of the most badass chicks I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.  
  
After a few loud cheers I’m lowered to my feet and then it’s Sheryl’s turn.  She goes up the steps resolutely and then stands with her back to us, feet pressed together and arms over her chest.  She says calmly, “Ready to fall.”  
  
We give her permission and she falls.  Afterwards we’re being corralled to the banquet hall where the graduation ceremony will take place and I fall back to walk with Sheryl.  My hand is soft on her arm as I ask, “You doing okay?”  
  
She shrugs and looks away from me.  “I thought moving would be easy.  I guess I’m a little homesick.  That’s all.”  
  
Sheryl had moved into my old apartment and Mona and I had invited her and Jade, her dog, over a few times for dinner.  Every time she has tried to return the favor by inviting us to her place I tell her I’m not ready.  I know she understands where I’m coming from but the more I think about it, the more annoyed I am that I’m still letting Adam control me.  It pisses me off more than anything else.  
  
Taking her arm in mine I invite myself over this weekend.  “Why don’t I come over Saturday night and we can have a movie marathon.”  
  
I can tell she’s uncertain whose benefit that will serve so I answer her unasked question.  “I think I need this just as much as you do.”  
  
She seems to accept that and since we’re being honest with each other she says, “Does it hurt you that you aren’t graduating with us today?”  
  
I shrug because I’m not sure how to answer that.  “I guess in a way it does.  I feel like I deserve it.  But I also know I’m not ready.  I guess it’s one thing to know you’re not quite there but it’s something else when other people know it.  Good thing I’m not an actor, right?  I’d fail miserably at it.”  
  
I make it through graduation, applauding each person as they walk across a makeshift stage and receive a rolled up prop that’s supposed to be a diploma.    
  
It takes less than ten minutes but it is ten minutes that has changed lives.  And as I stand there and talk amongst them there’s a tension that’s been lifted from the group.  Everyone is happy.  Everyone is whole.  Everyone except me.    
  
I don’t let that thought bring me down.  Not right now.  Not while my friends are celebrating their freedom.  
  
We make loose plans to get together for drinks, ice cream in Kathy’s case, and I let that thought warm me until Mona pulls up to a stop in front of our large group standing on the sidewalk in front of the community center.  Chad is lingering near Jerry and I call him over with his name and a hand wave.  
  
“You did a great job today, Stormy.”  
  
I give him a pat on the back as we perform a one armed hug.  I gently lead him over to where Mona is.  “Well I have a great camp counselor.”  
  
He smiles and looks towards the car questioningly as I knock on the window to signal Mona to roll it down.  She does and I motion Chad to bend over and look into the car with me.  He seems confused but interested as I rest my hands on the sill of the door.  “So Chad, this is my roommate, Mona.  Mona, this is Chad.  He runs the programs here.”  
  
Chad nods and flashes a dimpled smile.  “Hi, Mona.”  
  
I hear her whispered curse word and then she clears her throat and raises her hand to wiggle her fingers in a small wave.  “Hi, Chad.  Wow.  I mean, look at you.  You’re like a big ball of can I touch it.”  
  
He looks at me as I close my eyes, unsure if she’s nervous or if this is how she actually initiates conversation with the opposite sex.  When she adds on, “You have muscles on muscles.  You should patent the name Chad.  There should be no other Chads.  You should be named THE Chad.”  I decide then that she’s really just being herself.    
  
I straighten and lean against the car with my hip.  “We’re going to this beach bonfire party this weekend.  If you’re free we’d love to see you there.  It’s kind of a couples thing and I thought it would be a good way for you and Mona to get to know each other.”  
  
He looks from me back into the car at Mona who wags her eyebrows suggestively at him and makes an intense purring noise.    
  
I’m trying my very best not to laugh but a snort escapes and I cough to cover the small sound.  Chad tilts his head at Mona, “And you’re cool with being set up with me?”  
  
Mona licks her lips and replies breathlessly, “Oh baby.  You have no idea.”  
  
He grins and winks at her, “It’s a date then.”  
  
I catch a glimpse of Mona fanning herself as she says, “My body is beyond ready.”  
  
He looks from her to me as if asking me to clarify what that means and I nudge him aside so I can get in the car.  I shrug as an answer because I honestly have no idea.  I’m not completely up to speed on Mona-speak.  I sit as far back in my seat after Chad closes my door as possible so they can exchange numbers.    
  
After that task is taken care of Chad leans back and taps his palm on the roof of the car.  “I’ll see you this weekend.”  
  
Mona bites her lip and watches intently as he struts away to join what’s left of the group.  “God damn.  Did you see his hands?”  She puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb.  “I bet his dick is humongous.  I bet he’s got a donk.”  
  
I shift my eyes to look at her.  “A what?”  
  
Her shoulders roll as she answers, “A donk.  A fat ass.  You know.”  
  
I look at her as if she’s lost her mind.  “What do you mean I’d know?  Are you telling me I have a fat ass?”  
  
“No!”  She blows out a sigh as we merge into traffic.  “Not you.  Josh.  Josh has got a donk.”  
  
I press my hand to my head.  “Okay.  I give up.”  I sit back and enjoy the scenery instead.  Mona is quiet for a moment and then she turns down the radio to say, “Thank you.  For Chad.  For letting me move in.  For your friendship.”  
  
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, babe.”  I shoot her a concerned but caring look.  “Especially for my friendship.  You’re a great person and I’m glad we found each other.”  
  
She looks thoughtful before she pulls down the road that leads us to Josh’s.  It’s become customary for me to spend the night after therapy sessions.  Every Sunday and Wednesday.  My sleepover bag is on the floor of the back seat behind me.  Mona pulls up to Josh’s gate and I unbuckle and lean over her to reach out of her window and press the button to alert the house that a visitor is present.    
  
I mean mug it for the camera aimed at my face; sticking out my bottom lip and teeth in a bulldog pout and crossing my eyes simultaneously.    
  
“Look at that gorgeous face.  That’s the face of my future children.”  
  
Andre’s voice is a welcome change and I laugh as I wave and scoot back into my seat while the gates open to allow me entry.  I hop out of the car and grab my bag, blowing a kiss to Mona as I yell out, “Love you!”  
  
She gives me a wave and reverses out of the drive well on her way to who knows where for the night.  
  
I squeeze through the partial opening of the gate and rush up to the front door where Josh stands, his fingers hooked through Driver’s collar as the dog wiggles with barely banked exuberance.  
  
I toss my bag onto the ground seconds before barrelling into Josh’s body, my arms wrapping him in a hug as he braces himself and catches me to him with his free arm winding around me.  I sink into him and absorb his peaceful energy.    
  
In his arms, in his embrace, I let everything go.  And later, while we’re wrapped in soft cotton sheets and he plays with my hair while we talk about components of our lives that we haven’t shared with each other yet, I know just how lucky I am.  


	26. Chapter 26

**Josh**

There’s something to be said for spending endless days with your girlfriend and not having a worry in the world.  Stormy and I have been inseparable for the past week.  Mona is happy to have the apartment to herself since her and Chad hit it off at the beach bbq.  We swung by once early yesterday morning so Stormy could grab a few extra pairs of clothes and what we walked in on was not fit for a wakeup call.

Unless you were Chad since he was the only one benefitting from what Mona was serving him for breakfast at the kitchen table.  Or rather on the kitchen table.

 

Stormy had turned towards me and made a face before shutting the door and proclaiming she’d rather go nude than endure that sight again.

Now it’s Friday around lunch time and she sits on the edge of the lounge chair in a pair of her boy shorts and one of my white tees.  She’s indian style and the bottom hem is pulled and stretched over her knees, concealing everything from me.  Driver is on the ground beside her, his head resting on her bent knee as she talks to her parents.

“You know I would be more than happy to have you guys out here.”

I glance up at her from the revised script in front of me.  This was the third version and I could feel this project hanging on by a thread as it is passed between producers.  Stormy has my full attention when she blurts out, “My vagina is none of your concern, Cathy!”

She glances up at my snicker and flips me the bird as she curls her lip in a sneer.  I feel the stir of lust in my groin and I return her look with a wink which earns me a roll of her eyes.  Her focus goes back to the conversation at hand and I continue to read through this latest rewrite, losing interest after a couple of pages.  Thankfully I’m not contracted yet to play this role.

I toss the stack of papers aside and stretch out, laying back and closing my eyes against the warm sun.  It’s early March and there’s still a bite to the air but the sun’s rays are warm as they caress my skin and in no time at all I’m swept into a deep dream.

At one point I feel a warm body lay down beside me and curl into me, a leg over my waist and an arm across my chest, and then Stormy’s lips press to the side of my neck as she snuggles in close and falls asleep.

I wake up to a pounding at the front door.  Stormy seems to have the same reaction and we both glare in the offender’s direction even though we don’t know who it is.

Stormy sits up and rubs at her eyes, my shirt stretching upward as she raises her arms up and back.  I could sit here and watch her all day but instead I get up and head inside to answer the intrusive knocking.  Whoever it is made it past the front gate so I don’t bother to check and I swing the door open wide in greeting. 

Mona makes a snarling face at me and then pushes past in a blur of motion.  “Where is she?  I need to borrow your girlfriend.  I’m having a heart attack.”  She stomps back to me and grabs me by the front of my shirt and proceeds to shake me.  “I’m dying, Josh.  I’m fucking dying.”

I point in the direction of the open patio doors.  “She’s outside.”

She pulls me close and hugs me tight.  “Just in case I never see you again.”

I pat her back awkwardly and she gives me one last squeeze before she lets go and runs outside to Stormy.

I watch through the window as Stormy stands to intercept her and calms her down before sitting herself across from her where we just woke up.  She listens intently, nodding appropriately, and then suddenly she starts laughing and hugging Mona.  I can barely hear their muffled conversation but Stormy just tells her, “Everything is okay!  I promise you’re perfectly normal. No, you’re not going to die.”

I leave the girls alone and head into my room to grab a shower.  It’s right around noon and now that we’re both wide awake I know Stormy will be demanding food soon.  It’s very likely that Mona will be accompanying us and when I come out of the shower Stormy is sitting on the bed in a pair of jeans and a shirt advertising Jack Daniels.  I drop my towel and pull on a pair of boxers and look up at sound of a moan from Stormy.

“I’m hungry.”

I raise an eyebrow in her direction as I grab a white shirt from the stack in my middle drawer. “I’m sure you are.  For food or something else, though?”

She reaches out to me, her hands making grabbing motions until I move close enough for her to capture.  She pulls me to the edge of the bed and kisses the bare skin of my stomach, her hands on my hips and her fingers playing with the elastic waistband of my Calvin Klein’s.  “You.  I’m always hungry for you.”  And then her stomach lets out a loud growl and she looks up me as she grins.  “Food is second on the list.”

I laugh and lean down to press my lips to hers before moving away from her to pull my shirt on and follow it with a pair of dark wash jeans.  “Why don’t we get food first.”

She pops up off the bed in response.  “Probably a good idea since Mona is out in the living room waiting for us.”

I smile to myself, impressed that I know them as well as I do.

My phone rings as I slip on a pair of Vans and Stormy laces up her Converse.  I answer it without thought and listen to Avan on the other end.  “Hey, what are you guys up to?  Jane and I are in the area and were wondering if you wanted to meet for lunch. “

“Sure.  What were you thinking?”

At the same time I heard Jane in the background and Mona from behind me both say out loud, “Chipotle.”

Avan must have heard the same and there is a smile in his voice as he says, “We’ll see you there.  The one on Sunset?”  I agree and we hang up.

 

**Stormy**

On the ride over Mona sits in the back seat while I ride up front with Josh.  Our fingers are clasped together, resting on the gear shift, while I flick my thumb back and forth against his palm.  It starts as an innocent uncalculated move.  And then he shifts in his seat and takes his hand from the steering wheel long enough to adjust the front of his jeans.  I begin to notice that the harder I scrape the edge of my nail into the life line running the length of his palm, the tighter his pants get.  
  
I lick my lips in anticipation, wondering how long lunch is going to take and if we will get a moment alone long enough for me to get my hands on that delectable package.  
  
I find at after we order and push two tables together to create a large enough seating area for our group.  That is when we are one side of the table; Avan, Jane and Mona sit across from us. As I take a bite of my burrito with one hand, my other slides onto Josh’s thigh and rubs across the worn denim of his jeans.  
  
We keep up the conversation and it starts as a light caress at first and then Josh scoots his chair closer to me and the shift in his seat places the head of his hard on right under my fingertips.  I lightly scratch my nails back and forth and around, the mushroom tip dancing under my ministrations.  
  
My pussy throbs for attention and I am getting wetter by the second so I excuse myself from the table and look for the restrooms in the back on the opposite side of the bar.    
  
I push my way through the doors and enter the last stall, a small sound of surprise escaping my parted lips when Josh comes through the door with me and his body crowds in close, nudging me further into the stall until I am on one side of the toilet and he is able to close and latch the door.    
  
We face each other for a second, taking in the others appearance, and it is Josh who lunges first, grabbing my shirt and pulling me to him.  His lips are on mine and his voice is low as he says quietly, “Shit, I’m about to come just from kissing you.”  
  
My hands go to the button fly of his jeans and I undo each one by one with urgency as I gasp and lick into his mouth.  His hands are busy with their own task of getting down my pants and his fingers part my lips and then with a rotation of his wrist he shoves two fingers all the way into me.    
  
I buckle against him and fight my way through his boxers, his erection proud and tall and hot and heavy and the vein running the underside throbs as I begin to move my fist back and forth.  Our mouths stay latched on to each other.  Our tongues softening the moans as we breathe each other in.    
  
It doesn’t take long for me to get where I am going and just as I start to convulse and my legs begin to shake the door to the bathroom opens and I hold my breath as to not make any noise while I come apart.  Josh’s fingers pick up the pace as they plunge in and out of my wet heat.  I can barely hear him as he mouths, “I’m gonna come.  Oh god.  Oh fuck.  Stormy.  Storm-”  And then he lowers his mouth to my shoulder and bites down to keep from making any more noise just as the toilet flushes from a stall away.    
  
Water in the sink is running when I cup my other hand around the head of his dick as he erupts, shooting his load onto my closed fingers and against my palm.  As soon as I’m sure he’s done jerking into my fist I raise my fingers to my mouth and lick his essence clean.  
  
It doesn’t surprise me when he gently extracts his hand from my pants and licks my juices from his middle and index finger one after the other.  That doesn’t mean it’s any less of a turn on.  
  
I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet as I clutch at his shoulders and moan, “I want to fuck you sooooo bad.  Please tell me it’s going to happen soon.”  
  
With his clean hand he brushes my hair away from my face and kisses me deeply, the flavors off our tongues mingling together.  When he pulls away his hands drop down to zip and button my jeans as he replies, “Soon.  I promise.”  
  
I arrange his flaccid yet still impressive cock back into his boxers and let him finish buttoning himself up.  “Okay, but soon better mean soon and not on our one year anniversary.”  
  
“How about our 6 month?”  
  
I’m just about to unlock the stall door when I shoot him a disbelieving look over my shoulder.  “How about that better be a fucking joke.”  
  
“5 months.”  
  
I lean back against the still locked door and cross my arms.  “1 month.”  
  
“That’s in a few days.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“4 months then.”  
  
“Tonight.”  
  
“4 months is as low as I’m willing to go.”  
  
“I’m going to be re-hymenated if I wait that long.”  Josh’s laugh is soft but his eyes are serious and I can tell he wants to wait and there’s a reason for that so I nod slowly.  “Okay, fine.  Four months.  As long as I can play with you whenever I want.”

I have already turned and unlocked the door, putting an end to the conversation but his voice as he follows me to the sinks is a little uncertain.  “That’s a deal.  But can we maybe choose a more private place next time?”

I wash my hands and fling water droplets at him as I shake my hands out, “I’m not the one that followed you!  I was just coming in here to make myself decent before I leaked a puddle around our table.”

He grabs me around the waist and kisses me on the back of my neck.  “I love how wet you get for me.”

I elbow him gently and turn away from him.  “I appreciate dry panties.  Keep your sexy turned down in public.”

We aren’t exactly sneaky coming out of the bathroom as Josh laughs at my request.  When we near the table a brunette haired beauty is sitting in Josh’s seat and he claps as he realizes who she is.  “Holy shit.”

She turns away from her conversation with Avan and stands up to receive Josh’s hug, peeking over his shoulder at me as she does.  “Hey.”  She pulls out of the embrace and leans past him.  I don’t miss the way her breasts brush against his arm territorially.  I don’t miss the way Josh takes a step to the side as soon as it happens.  Josh makes the introductions by saying, “This is my girlfriend, Stormy.  Storm, this is-“

He doesn’t have to finish.  She’s the same girl he was talking to in Starbucks last week.  I know who she is and I say so.  “I know.  Hi.  Nice to meet you.”  I hold out a hand and she is all smiles as she ignores it and pulls me into a tight hug instead.  I narrow my eyes at Josh as he shrugs.

“Stormy.  Wow.  I’ve heard a lot about you!”  She pulls away and grins.  “Josh, why don’t you go get us dessert.  I remember how much you love their margaritas.”

He suddenly looks very uncomfortable and I give him a quick nod.  “A drink sounds great.”  Jane and Mona also agree and the guys go get in line to order us refreshments while the girls offer to take our food to the trash.  As soon as they’re out of range I slide into a seat and she takes the one across from me.  She doesn’t wait long to ask me what she’s probably been wondering since last week.

“How long have you and Josh been a thing?”

 I look over at him, a smile on my lips that still tingle from his kisses in the bathroom.  “About a month now.”  I can’t keep the grin off my face that I try to hide by bringing my straw up to my mouth and drinking greedily from my previously abandoned soda.

The brunette across from me looks to the side where Josh and Avan are waiting for our drinks. Mona and Jane are dumping the remnants of our food into the trash bin and I pick at the chips and salsa sitting in front of me. 

“So you’re still in the newlywed phase.”

I tilt my head curiously, silently asking her what she means. 

She laughs and her hand swats the air as if erasing her words.  “It’s just that I remember dating Josh.  And at first he’s possessive and it’s really cute.  To be wanted so entirely.”  I look over at Josh and as if he can feel me he glances over his shoulder and shoots me a lopsided grin.  I smile back slowly, still listening to her words.  “But then a few months pass and he wants to know where you are every single minute of every single day.  And his temper starts to show.”  I shift my eyes from Josh’s to hers and watch her closely as she finishes by saying, “He’s a nice guy.  Don’t get me wrong.  But I think whatever happened to him and that bitch that branded him did a number on him.”

I furrow my brows as I ask, “Branded?”

She taps her hip in response and I form an O with my mouth.  “You mean Lizzy?”  At her shrug and penetrating gaze I feel my hackles rise.  “Lizzy wasn’t a bitch.  She was his first love.”

“She was his first everything and she’s someone you’ll constantly have to compete with.”

I stand up and lean my palms on the table, crowding into her space, tired of the game she’s playing as a jealous ex-girlfriend.  “I don’t have to compete with anyone.  I’m not worried about his first love or his second or third.  As long as I’m his last.”  I tip my drink in her direction, pointing at her with the end of my straw.  “Try to remember that.”

I turn and walk away from her, heading towards Josh with a small smile.  He looks beyond me where his ex is no longer sitting and his eyes follow her out the door and then come back to mine, interested in what might have happened.

When I’m within hearing distance I say, “She had other things to do.”

Mona and Jane join us just then and my roommate adds, “Yeah.  Like remove that stick from her ass.”

Avan laughs and grabs Jane by the hand, pulling her close to him.  “Josh has a track record of dating stuck up bitches.”

He looks away, hurt by the judgment but not denying it.  I press myself to his side and put my arms around him.  “I’m glad to be the one to break your losing streak.”

I watch him swallow hard before I hear him whisper down to me, “I always looked for the opposite of her.”

By her I knew he meant Lizzy and I lean my head against his chest, offering him support.  “It’s okay, Josh.”

“I know it is.”  I look up at him from his shoulder and he smiles sadly as he looks from the line in front of us down into my face.  “It’s okay now because I have you.”

I kiss him softly, my hand resting against his cheek and my thumb brushing against his temple.  I whisper against his parted lips, “It’s okay now because we have each other.”  And it is.


	27. Chapter 27

**Josh**

“Stormy’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“I know.”  I push my chair back and turn away from the conversation in front of me to focus on the voice coming through the phone.  “What do you have planned?”

“Strippers.”

“Absolutely not.”  My voice is stern but I’m smiling at the thought of Stormy’s reaction. 

Mona mumbles unconvincingly and finally relents.  “I would suggest a girls night out but I know she wants you around.”

 

“You can still have a girls night out.  I’ll just fade into the background.”

Mona scoffs as she complains, “You’re Josh Hutcherson.  The background doesn’t exist where you’re concerned.”  My grin widens.  One of my favorite past times has become arguing with her. I don’t think she’s realized yet that I just do it to get a reaction.  She turns silent and after a long pause, just as I’m about to ask her if she’s okay she blurts out, “The eagle has landed.  The mother fucking eagle is in the nest.”  The line goes dead and I pull my phone away from my ear to study it.  I decide the eagle is Stormy and I let it go, shaking my head.

“Josh, you with us?”

I turn back to where Andre is sitting around a conference table with my lawyers.  Lucy has completed her stint in rehab and she was released just twenty four hours ago.  I run a hand through my shaggy hair and hold in a sigh as I join the small group.  “I’m here.”  I reclaim my seat and look at my lawyers one by one.  “What are my options?”

**Stormy**

“Eagle is in the nest.” 

I kick off my shoes near the front door and glance over at Mona where she’s nestled into the couch.  She quickly hangs up her phone and tosses it to a far away cushion.  I raise my eyebrows at her questioningly as I pass by her.  “Who was that?”

She looks left and right and then points to herself.  “Me?”

I laugh as I duck into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.  “Yes, you.  Who were you talk to and what about eagles?”

I watch Mona get up from the couch and put her hands on her hips.  “Were you eavesdropping? That’s so rude.  I have no privacy here.  God!”

She stomps past me to her room and I shrug in response before hoisting myself up onto the counter beside the stove and tucking my feet under me as I flip through the stack of mail we regularly neglect.  Two envelops stand out to me and I slide my finger under the flap of the first one.  It’s a birthday card from my parents and I smile as I read it. 

The front of the card is a glittery birthday cake that says in yellow frosting Happy 8th Birthday.  I flip it open to read the pre-printed message May your wishes come true on your special day.  On the opposite side is my mom’s slanted script that says “to our brightest moonbeam, may your special man treat you to the many wonders of your body and spirit and we hope every wish, hope and dream comes true for you. Love, Cathy & Bob.”  There’s a check for twenty five dollars that I put aside before leaning over to use a magnet to place my card on the fridge door.

I sit back and open the other envelope.  This too has a check enclosed and I choke on my sip of water as I take in the multiple zeros behind the numbers 2 and 5.  I check the sender and groan. Vivid Entertainment.  My pay off for the porn tape.  I shove that check back in the envelope and open a nearby drawer to shove it into for me to come back to later.  I just don’t want to stare at it right now.  The fewer reminders I have of Adam, the better. 

My phone rings and I stretch my leg out to fish my fingers into my pocket to grab it.  I can tell by the ringtone it’s Josh and I smile as I greet him.  “Hey, babe.”

“Oh.  Uh, hi.”  The voice is different.  Same intonation but younger and clearer.  Josh has a certain huskier slur to his words when he talks candidly.  The stranger goes on to say, “I’m sorry. He told me to press redial.  I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay.  I’m Stormy by the way.” 

I hear a sharp intake of breath and then a slow release before he replies, “You’re Stormy?” 

I laugh and confirm, “Yep.  That’s me.  And who do I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“Connor.  I’m Connor.”  Josh’s little brother. 

“Hi, Connor.  I heard you were going to be visiting.  I hope you and Josh have a good time today.” I’m just about to tell him I’ll let him go so he can make the call he meant to make previously when he blurts out, “Why don’t you come with us!”

I open my mouth but I’m unsure how to answer that.  If Josh and I were just friends I would have happily accepted the invitation.  Now that we’re dating I don’t want to crowd him.  I put my free hand to the top of my head, unable to believe that thought actually came from my brain.  Josh and I just were.  There was no need to over think anything.  “What have you guys got going on today?”

I could practically hear the smile in his voice, “We’re going shopping for an apartment.  I’m transferring to UCLA in the fall.”

I grin as he talks and finally I’m able to reply, “Congratulations.  I know how badly you wanted to come here.”

After Connor graduated high school last year he stayed close to home and attended U of K.  Josh had recently lamented to me that Connor was ready to head west and that he had applied to UCLA but I hadn’t been aware that he had been accepted. 

Connor’s voice is laced with pride as he explains to me that he doesn’t want to live in a dorm again and he had gotten a job back home and saved up enough money to feel comfortable looking for his own place.  He is only a few years younger than Josh and I am thoroughly impressed that at his age he is mature enough to set goals and go after them.

The intrusion of Josh’s voice in the background is not unwelcome.  He asks his brother if he got ahold of the realtor and when Connor says, “Not exactly.”  I smile and wait for Josh to come on the line.  It doesn’t take long.

“Storm?”

I swallow a sip of water and swing my legs out in front of me.  “Hey there, stranger.”

His voice takes on an echo as if he’s just shut himself away somewhere.  “Hey.  How are you doing?”

“I’m good.  Just talking to Connor.”

His soft laugh unravels a delicious knot that has settled in my bones.  “I’m sure Connor was delighted to finally get to talk to you.”

“He’s a really cool kid.  I like him.”

I can practically hear him squint in my direction, “But you like me more.”

It’s a statement – far from a question – but I pretend to think about it anyways.  “Hmm.  Well, I don’t know.  He’s obviously very smart and he has an excellent sense of humor.”

“He’s too young for you.”

His words are clipped and I push a little further.  “Legal is legal right?  Really, age is just a number.  I think someone once told me that.”

He scoffs and mutters, “Yeah.  I did.  When I was trying to get you to go out with me.”

“Oh!  That’s right.  This sexy guy I met at some stoner concert told me that.”

He’s suddenly very quiet and I can practically hear him thinking.  Finally he says begrudgingly, “You want to meet Connor?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me and reply, “I think I’m going to pass.  But have fun apartment shopping.”

Josh mumbles a good bye and I hang up and stare down at my phone.  I’m really uncomfortable with how our conversation ended but I decide to wait until later tonight to talk to him about it.  I know he has other things going on right now and I don’t need to add to it.

My eyes shift to the drawer by my knee and I cringe.  There’s still the matter of the fat check I just received but I decide today is a day to pretend it never happened and I push it far from my mind.

Hours later I’m swaying back and forth to a slow track by Lenny Kravitz, a lit blunt pressed between my lips as I slowly twirl around the living room.  Mona is laying on her back on the coffee table, bong resting between her spread thighs as she recites some old English poem that’s been stuck in her head since high school.

The buzzing for the door goes unnoticed but the loud knock that follows shortly brings our attention around.  It’s Mona who says loudly, “Hark.  Who goeth before the door-eth?”

I cross the room and slide back the chain on the door and then the lock itself.  My face is turned towards her as I state, “I don’t think door-eth is a word.”  I blow a thick stream of smoke upward and open the door to Josh and a younger, but taller, version of him.  My mind completely shuts down and I stand there, rooted to the spot.  “Uh.”

Josh gives me a once over, effectively blocking me with a turn of his body.  “Hey.  Where’s the party?”

I don’t have to look down to know a lot of my skin is on display.  Probably more than Josh would ever want any of his family members to see.  In my haste I blurt out, “No party.  Wait here.”  I shut the door in his face; nearly taking out his fingers in the process.  I turn towards my bedroom but spin back around to yell, “Don’t move!”

I stub out the blunt in the ashtray and snatch the bong from Mona when she raises her lighter for another round.  “No more weed.  Shit.”  I dance around unsure of where to start.  Finally I thrust all the paraphernalia at my roommate and say, “I have to get dressed.  Do something with the weed!”

Mona sits up straight and looks a little confused.  As I enter my bedroom I hear her ask, “Who was at the door?”

“Just Josh.”

My answer is met with silence and then an explosion of activity as Mona screams and shuffles past my door, arms laden with items.  I pull on my jeans over my underwear and a large shirt over the tiny camisole I am wearing.  On my way to the living room I grab my bottle of Febreze and liberally spray the smoke saturated air with it all while muttering, “Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.”

I set the bottle aside and wave my hands wildly trying to clear out the smell as much as possible.  Josh’s knuckles rap against the door.  “Stormy, just let us in.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and blow out a deep breath before unlocking the door once again and pulling it wide open with a smile.  “Hi!  Come on in!”

Josh crowds me up against the door and palms the back of my head while he brushes his lips against mine.  “I liked what you had on before.”  I sigh and grab onto the front of his shirt to keep myself steady.

“You did?”

“Mmm.”  The deep rumble from his throat nearly makes me come on the spot and I step closer to him.  Josh breaks me out of the spell as he mentions the guest he brought with him.  “But I don’t think my brother needs to see you in your underwear.”

I grin and push him back playfully then lean around him to find Connor.  “Hi, Connor.  Nice to put a face to a voice.”

Connor’s smile is wider than Josh’s.  More carefree if that is even possible.  “Same here.”  He holds out his hand and I take it in mine and pull, allowing him to step forward for a hug.  I smile over at Josh as Connor rocks me, something his big brother does as well.  His voice is thin and filled with emotion when he finally loosens his grip and says, “It’s really good to finally meet you.”

Josh and I haven’t been dating that long but I’ve already met his aunt and his mom so I don’t look for a deeper meaning to Connor’s words. 

I invite them to take a seat just as Mona peeks her head around the corner.  “Are they gone?”

I shift my eyes from our guests to my crazy friend.  “Is who gone?”

Connor looks around the room curiously while Josh sinks into a papasan chair in the corner. 

Mona squeals, “The cops.  That’s who.”

I shake my head.  “Why would the cops be here?”

Her hands are flying around her face as she sputters, “You said to get rid of the weed!  You said the cops were here!”

I grab her by the arms and lead her to the couch, lowering her slowly.  Sweat has broken out across her brow line and she has a wild look in her eyes.  “Mona.”  My voice is soft.  Soothing. “Why would you need to get rid of the weed?  I have a prescription for it.”  I brush her hair back from her face and study her bloodshot eyes.  “I didn’t say anything about the cops.  I said Josh. Josh is here.”

Her eyes flick to Josh and then she jerks when she notices Connor still standing by the door.  She looks back at me and when the situation sinks in she groans.  “Oh shit.”

Her whispered words don’t escape me.  “Oh shit, what?”

“I- uh- “  She glances back towards the bathroom. 

“You- uh- what?”  My hands are on my hips and I’m waiting for her confession since I have a pretty good idea of what she did.

“I flushed it.”  I lean forward and cup my hand around my ear as if I’ve misheard her.  She mumbles a little louder.  “I flushed it down the toilet.”

From behind me I hear laughter escape Josh and from the corner of my eye I can see Connor grinning madly.  I sigh loudly.  “What am I going to do with you, Mona?” 

She looks up at me with a slow smile.  “I have some weed that’s not prescription.”

I laugh and ruffle her hair.  “Maybe later.  I think we’re good for now.”

I direct Connor to sit now that the crisis has passed.  Josh motions me over to him and I gladly accept his invitation and fall into his lap, sinking back into his body and the overstuffed cushion beneath us.

Conversation is easy and Connor gives us his opinions on what he saw that he liked and dislikes while looking at places today.  Connor and Josh have an easy rapport and they spoke with a familiarity that was easy to follow along and be drawn into.

Not until we’re a little more settled and Josh mentions going to Paris in the end of May is there a sudden tension that fills the room.

Connor sits up a little straighter in his corner of the couch and looks across the room at where Josh and I are curled into each other.  “Is she going with you?”

I perk up at that.  “Excuse you.  She is in the room and she is me.  Or I.  She is I.”  I giggle and wave the sentence away.  “You know what I mean.”

Connor rubs his face quickly and then his eyes search Josh’s for something.  An explanation maybe.

Josh’s voice is quiet and straight to the point when he says, “It’s what she would have wanted.”

I am quick to realize that this time the pronoun does not refer to me.  Suddenly I feel like the other woman and I know they’re talking about Lizzy.  Something forms in my throat and I can’t swallow and I can barely speak but I force the words out regardless.  “It’s okay.  I don’t have to go.”  I can tell by the way the brothers stare at each other that neither is willing to back down on what they think.  There’s a silent conversation going on over my head and I scoot off of Josh and get up from my seat to abandon the room.  It’s just minutes after I flop down on my bed that there’s a throat clearing from my doorway.

I can also tell it isn’t Josh but Connor.  I nod, granting him access.  I lay there quiet, waiting for him to speak.  The mattress dips by my feet and it shakes subtly.  I know that exact feeling and I sit up to put an arm around him while he silently weeps.  I take his hand in mine and hold on, lending him support.  I know who Lizzy is to Josh.  I’m guessing by the outward display of emotion she was just as important if not more to Connor. 

He isn’t looking at me when he says, “I loved her.”  My eyes widen and I look away, unsure of what’s next to come.  He tightens his grip on my hand and says, “Not the way Josh did.  But I loved her.”

I relax a little and lean my head against his upper arm.  “She’s special.  Even now.  To both of you.”

He lets out a long breath and nods, thankful I understand without an explanation.  “Lizzy was amazing.  She set the bar pretty high.”

I shake my head softly, “I’m not trying to replace her, Connor.  But I do think there’s enough room in Josh’s heart for me too.”  I nudge him with my elbow, “And I think Lizzy had to have been one awesome chick to have meant so much to both of you.”

Connor’s head bobs in agreement.  “She was.”  He turns his face to wipe his damp cheeks against the cotton of his shirt on his shoulder.  After a few quick breaths he seems to compose himself.  His words touch something inside me when he lets go of my hand and admits, “She always wanted to go to Paris.  She talked about a lot of things she wanted to do that she knew she’d never get to but that was the one.  It was her dream.”  He turns toward me, “Josh promised her he’d take her one day.  He’s gone a few times but it’s always been for work and with the jetlag he never has time to go do the things she wanted to do.”  I nod along but before I can interrupt he says, “I think she’d want you to go.”

I blink my tear-filled eyes rapidly as I look away.  “I would love nothing more than to accompany Josh to Paris in Lizzy’s honor.”

Connor pulls me in for a hug and holds me to him, tight and secure.  “Thank you, Stormy.”

We walk back out into the living room where Josh is sitting across from Mona.  Upon my entrance he opens his arms to me and I give Connor one last hug and a pat on the arm before I accept Josh’s gracious offer.  We curl back around each other as Connor sits on the couch next to Mona and pulls her into a conversation.  They’re talking about what a culture shock it was for her to move from New York to here and I let Josh’s deep breathing and the play of his fingers through my hair lull me to sleep. 

I wake up briefly as they leave and Josh tells me he’ll see me tomorrow.  I make it to my bed just in time to pass back out.  I toss and turn on top of my blanket all night, my dreams plagued with demons from my past.

**Josh**

Connor and I don’t talk much the morning of Stormy’s birthday.  I haven’t asked him what he said to her when he followed her into her bedroom the night before nor do I plan to.  I understand what he is feeling whether he thinks I can or not.  He’s not the only one who is allowed to miss Lizzy.  But even I know that Stormy is meant for me.  And if I’m willing to accept my future so should he.

By the time we go to pick up Stormy for brunch there’s a comfortable silence surround us.  As close as we are it’s difficult for us to stay angry at each other for any extended length of time. And if things hadn’t already smoothed themselves out Stormy’s announcement when she slid into the Jeep would have cured us. 

“Mona won’t tell me where we’re going tonight.”

Mona puts her foot on the tire and a hand to the roll bar to heft herself up and into the backseat beside Connor.  “It’s a surprise.”

Simultaneously Stormy and I both say, “No strippers!”

Later that evening as we enter the club I’m impressed with Mona’s choice and her connections. We’re led to the VIP section where Chad waits along with a large group of people that I recognize from her group therapy.  Stormy rushes up the steps to the velvet rope divider and thanks the bouncer for unclasping it for her entry.

Connor is arriving later with Andre and I’m glad Mona picked the all ages club.  We are on the dance floor, Stormy with her arms around my neck and her legs on either side of one of mine as she grinds into my thigh when two blondes show up.  She smiles as she introduces me to Whittlee and Rachel.  They take turns dancing with me when Stormy excuses herself to use the bathroom.

After a few songs I look towards the dark corner where the restrooms are situated and nod my head in that direction.  “I’m going to go check on Stormy.”

Both girls fall into step beside me.  I send them in to check the stalls and when they don’t come right back out I check my surroundings before I slip through the swinging door.

Stormy is flanked by Whittlee and Rachel, her arms held tight by her sides as she struggles to get free.  I rush to her, my mouth open to ask what the hell is going on, when my eyes follow theirs to the form in the corner.

Lucy is crouched down into a ball, her arms over her head in protection as she cries.  Stormy turns to me, her cheeks red and her eyes filled with tears. 

I’m by her side instantly.  “Are you okay?”  I check her for any injuries as I know firsthand what Lucy is capable of.  She nods and holds out her hand, a chunk of brown hair tangled in her fingers.  I shouldn’t laugh but I can’t help the relief that floods through my body.  Whittlee calls the cops while Rachel stands over the prone girl.  I pull Stormy into the safe circle of my arms and hold her tight while the shaking subsides from her limbs.

Lucy looks up at me then and snarls, “The stupid bitch can have you.”  I grab for Whittlee as she charges forward and catch her around the waist, pulling her into my side to rest beside Stormy. 

Whittlee settles but the anger that laces her voice comes through clear with her verbal threat, “Call her a bitch again and there won’t be enough of your store bought tits left to warrant a shopping bag let alone a body bag.”

I have to admit it’s a pretty good line and I’m impressed that Lucy is even capable of speech although she’s wise and remains crouched in the corner with her lips pressed firmly together in a pout.

The cops arrive and take our statements and Stormy relays the sequence of events as I listen on without interrupting.  She starts at when she walked into the bathroom and ends with Lucy slapping her across the face to which she retaliated by pulling her hair.  It’s Rachel’s amused voice that says, “That’s a cheap ass weave anyways.  She obviously doesn’t go to Mikah.”  I take it from the way she flips her hair Mikah is her hairdresser and the cops make quick notes even as they cuff Lucy for her violation of her restraining order that was issued just 24 hours before.

After the chaos dies down and we’re left alone in the alley Stormy lifts her chin from my shoulder to ask, “You knew she was out?”

I nod unhappily.  “I did but I didn’t think she’d be a threat.”  I sigh and then kiss her forehead to steady myself, inhaling the scent of her shampoo from her hair.  The same smell I hug to me every night when I sleep with her pillow and she’s not there.  “I guess you can’t fix crazy.”

Stormy makes a face and looks away towards the flashing lights that leave the alleyway.  “I got my check yesterday from the settlement.”  At my blank look she rolls her eyes, “The porn thing.”

“Oh.”  I run a hand over her hair, “And are you okay?”

She shakes her head, “No.  But I will be.”  She takes my hand in hers and studies our laced fingers.  “We both will.”

I’ve never heard a truer statement spoken and I let her lead me back into the club through the back entrance.  It’s a night to celebrate and we put aside our worries and do just that.


	28. Chapter 28

**Josh**

I pull the brim of my ball cap a little lower and hunch my shoulders inward to make myself as small as possible.  Stormy fidgets beside me, her palms tapping out a beat on her thighs as she chews on her bottom lip.  Her eyes are fixed straight ahead at the terminal her parents should be arriving at any minute now.  The original plan was for me to wait in the car but then I noticed the wild light in Stormy’s eyes and I was afraid if I left her to come in on her own she’d hop on the first flight out of here.  

To say she is nervous about Cathy and Bob’s visit is putting it mildly.

I hear them before I see them.  Cathy’s boisterous laughter and the last few words of Bob’s joke drift towards us and Stormy starts into the crowd, moving towards them before I can grab her.

 

I straighten from the wall I’m leaning against and keep my eyes fixed on the blonde head bobbing through the oncoming crowd.  Cathy’s arms open and Stormy disappears in a colorful swath of fabric.  Bob puts his arms around both women and says loud enough for me to hear, “Now where’s my favorite future son in law?”

My lips twitch at the edges and I raise a hand in acknowledgement as they walk towards me.  Bob breaks away to pat me on the back.  “There he is!  How are things in the great west, Josh my boy?”

I lead the way to the luggage carousel and keep up the conversation.  Stormy is moving along between her parents, an eye roll evident here and there.  Our chatter turns to “putting a ring on it” as Bob says and Cathy intercepts the conversation by adding, “I’m sure the only ring our girl is interested in is the one that goes around Josh’s manhood to keep his soldier at attention for optimal play.”

I choke on the air I just breathed in and Stormy hisses, “Cathy, behave.”

Cathy shrugs as we round the corner and then waves at the long line of paparazzi waiting off to the side.  I keep my head down and my arm protectively wrapped around Stormy’s shoulders, bringing her into my side.  One ballsy pap calls our names, “Josh!  Stormy!”

Stormy ignores the request to stop and talk until a teenager runs up to us.  We both halt mid-step and Stormy lets go of her hold on my arm to sign the inside cover of a sketch book.  The girl grins, and asks for my autograph as well.  “I’m a big fan of both of yours.  I love your movies.”  She turns to Stormy and smiles shyly, “Are you going to be done with your second book soon?”

Stormy pulls the girl close and whispers just loud enough for her to hear, “I finished it last week and sent it off to my editor.  But shhh, keep that between us.”

The girl gasps and nods quickly.  “I won’t tell anyone.  Promise.”

Stormy smiles and watches the girl return to her parents.  Stormy’s parents are waiting for us near the exit, both of them wearing looks of pride on their faces.  Before we meet them I say close to Stormy’s ear, “Did you really finish it last week?”

She nods and tucks her hand into mine.  “I did.  I was waiting to hear back from my editor.  She’ll let me know if everything flows smoothly or if it’s all just a pile of shit.”

We walk to the garage together and everyone piles into the Jeep, Bob in the front seat with me, as we make our way back to my place where I’ve set up the spare room, Stormy’s old bedroom, for her parents.

Later that night I lay in bed with Stormy, bare skin touching, both of us completely naked, as we listen to the Doors.  Her voice is tired but so sweet when she speaks into the darkness while looking up at the full moon above the skylights.  “This is what I want our first time to be like.”

I raise my eyebrows and smile, the dense fog left behind from really good weed blanketing my brain and my limbs in numbness.  “What?  Stoned and incapable of moving?”

“With Jim Morrison singing about sexy thighs and you bathed in moonlight.”  She turns her head and her eyes search mine, “I want to feel you inside me, Josh.  I want you so deep in me that we meld into one being and absorb each other’s souls.  I want to feel you in every pore.  Every nerve.”  Her finger  twitches and touches mine and I nearly come, already rock hard beside her, sheet tented by my erection.  She doesn’t glance down though, her eyes snaring mine with their depths of color, her lips moving and forming around words that tickle down my spine and settle in my balls.

 

My mind fluxes to another set of pink lips that I just know are slick and sweet and waiting for me.

Without thought I move down the bed, startling Stormy into silence.  I kiss her thigh and whisper, “Keep talking.  I want to hear your voice.  It’s magical.”

She shudders and sighs and her fingers weave into my hair as I drag my mouth across her hip to her sweet heat.  Her legs open wide as she whispers into the hazy air lingering above us, “The universe is a never ending entity and my love for you is as broad and as everlasting as it.”  I bury my nose into the deep v of her sex and press a kiss deep into her folds.

We’re high so it probably won’t count but I can’t think of a better time to tell her, “You’re my one.”

Her eyes shift down to mine as she grins and stretches her arms up and then back, her body arching off the bed and her pussy nudging my face.  “I want to be your all, Josh.  I want to be your everything.”  

I spear my tongue into her and she quivers, her hands coming down her body slowly until they are on my head and holding me in place.  Her hips lift to ride my tongue and I groan as she circles slowly around and around against my mouth.  “Can I, Josh?”  Her words are husky and full of need as she slowly fucks my tongue with her clasping walls.  “Can I be your all?”

I nod eagerly as she picks up the pace, my fingers kneading the flesh of her ass as I sip from her honeyed sweetness.  Her voice is breathless as she speaks, “Make me come, Josh.  Now.”  Her insistence spurs a reaction in me and I push my tongue deep as I nudge her clit with my nose, rubbing up and down, up and down, and holding her hips tight to my face until she yells my name twice loudly up at the ceiling, up at the sky, up into the universe.

When she settles back to earth she gives my hair a soft yank and leads me up her body.  “I want you to sit right here.”  She rubs her stomach and I kiss the skin she touches.  Her words infiltrate my brain but I don’t understand them completely until she says, “I want you to fuck my tits.”

My heart beat picks up and I swing each of my legs to the outsides of hers, straddling her as I lower my weight to my knees, my ass barely resting on her midsection.  My balls are drawn tight to my body and my dick is hard and pointing off into the distance somewhere between her face and mine.  Her hands are warm as she wraps both around my shaft and massages up my length.  I want to watch her.  I want to but I can’t.  If I do I know I will explode before I’m ready so I tilt my head back and focus my attention on the stars in the sky above my room.  I feel her maneuver me into place, her soft peach tits surrounding my dick.  I thrust involuntarily and the head of my dick gets wet and I look down in shock.

Her pink lips are wrapped around me and her tongue pushes against my slit and I shiver as I stare down into her lust filled gaze.  Her eyes are wide, waiting for me to move, but I don’t want to pull out of the wet warmth of her mouth.  Finally, without letting me free, she holds onto her breasts and rubs them back and forth along my cock.  She creates different pressures of suction with her cheeks until I’m panting above her, jerking my hips infinitesimally back and forth just because staying still is not an option.

She moans around my girth and I say her name, louder than I thought.  And then she shoots me a wink and does it again and I abandon all pretenses and surge forward into her mouth.  She releases her grasp on her breasts and instead holds onto my hips as my palms flatten onto the wall above the headboard.  I piston my hips, back and forth, grunting with the effort of holding back, not wanting to smother her, when she swallows and the head of my cock rests against the back of her tongue and I shout over and over again, thrusting forward into her, my eyes closed as I warn her.  “I’m gonna come, baby.”

Her hands tighten on my hips, fingertips digging into my ass cheeks, and pull me closer, if that’s even possible, and I understand she’s giving me permission.  The thought of her swallowing my essence triggers something deep inside of me and I lower one hand to her hair and with a tight grip on her blonde locks I fuck her mouth, hard and deep, until I blow my load buried in the recesses of her throat.

She swallows greedily, milking me.  My grip automatically loosens and I try to sit back, scooting off and away from her, but she stops me, her lips still around my shaft as she shakes her head.

Her tongue swipes up the underside of my half hard cock and then swirls around me until she’s collected every drop.  When she’s satisfied she finally releases me with a loud pop and her head hits the pillow with a bounce.

Her cheeks are red and her eyes dazzle as she stares up at me still above her.  “That was amazing.”

I close my eyes briefly, laughing because I should be the one saying that but instead it’s her voice that is tinted with awe.  I move to the side of her and collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily and depleted of all rational thought.

The words are out before I can grab them back to me.  “Will you marry me?”

 

There’s no awkward silence.  There’s no pause at all as Stormy rolls over and looks at me and says, “Right now?”

I smile because  it’s not a no.  I shake my head and grab her with greedy hands, pulling her close to me, right up against my body.  “Not right now.  Just eventually.”

She yawns and buries her face into the crease of my armpit, her nude body rubbing along mine as she settles in.  Her voice is soft and sleepy as she mumbles, “Sure.  First we sleep though.”

I listen to her breathing even out and feel her body go totally lax next to me.  I can’t keep the grin off my face as I close my eyes and sink further into bed.  With just one thought luring me to sleep, she didn’t say no.

 

**Stormy**

 

I wake up to the phone ringing and without opening my eyes I reach my hand out and feel around for it.  All I find is warm skin and toned muscles and my brain takes a detour as I drag my fingers down Josh’s chest to his belly button.  I scrape my nails over the happy trail that leads me to my very own Disneyland, my happiest place on earth where my favorite ride awaits me.  My hand has just wrapped itself around his half hard length when there’s a knock on the bedroom door and my mom’s voice reaches through the wooden panel right to my ears, “Jesus, Bob.  Back up.  I don’t need you breathing down my neck.  What do you think I’m going to do?  Barge in?”

I squint my eyes closed and tighten my fist, causing Josh to moan and raise his hips into my grip.  “Fffffuck.”  His head turns to look at me in surprise as he comes awake suddenly.  

I smile and say, “Good morning.”  

As I loosen my grip just a little and rotate my wrist he grabs me by the arm and hauls me over him.  “It is.  It really is.”

His lips part beneath mine and I swing my leg over his hip to align myself with his tip and just as he nudges forward between my parted lips my dad clearly says, “Let them make their morning love.  We should be doing that too.”

My mom protests just as Josh does when he whimpers out a refusal.  “No.”  His voice is a harsh whisper and the head of his cock rocks just the tiniest bit into me.  My hands, arms, torso, legs; my whole body shakes in anticipation.

“Josh.  Oh god, please.”  My lips are against his, the words barely a whisper as I breathe them into his mouth.  I don’t care that my parents are on the other side of the door.  I just want him inside me.  His eyes stare up into mine and his brow softens as he raises his hips just a fraction.  Just enough for him to push a little bit further, just the tip entering.  I couldn’t shut up if I tried.  “Fuck, Josh.  Please.  All the way.  I need to feel you.”  Tears spring into my eyes, frustration forcing me to beg for it.  “Once.  Just once.  Please.”  I kiss him softly before whispering the word again, “Oh, please.”

I can feel the bunch of his hips as he gets ready to surge upward, his hands on the curve of my lower back to hold me steady, when my mom answers my dad, “Bob, you haven’t woken up with a chubby in years.  How am I supposed to make do when you can’t get it up before your morning restitution?”

Josh’s lips twitch and mine return the gesture.  I huff out a breath and slowly extract myself from his grip, lifting myself off of him until he’s no longer teasing my entrance.  “I’ll go fix breakfast.”

Josh pulls me to him and pins me under him and with his arm hooked beneath my leg he plunges deep inside of me.  I go still underneath him, my body growing accustomed to his length as he struggles to maintain his composure.  Sweat beads on his forehead as he holds himself steady and I tilt my hips up to take in as much of him as I can.  He makes a noise in the back of his throat and with his free hand he reaches down between us and massages me.  Without a single thrust besides the one he used to enter me fully, he brings me quickly to climax.  I claw at him, my hands and fingers tightening on his sides as I shake beneath him.  He stays motionless inside of me as I come, unaware of myself repeating his name until he leans down to silence me with a kiss.  His tongue moves inside my mouth like his cock should be and his fingers soften against my clit as my orgasm tapers out.

I’m deliciously full and still enjoying the aftershocks when Josh groans deeply and then pushes himself up and pulls out of me, his hand holding tight to his erection as he comes in spurts across my stomach.  I lean back and watch his face contort in pleasure with a hint of what could be pain, mouth open as he grunts.

It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.   And I tell him so as he finishes jerking off.

His hoarse laughter floats around and into me and I reach up to him to pull him down close.  Despite his warm cum decorating my stomach he sinks down onto me and kisses me as I wrap my arms around him and hold on.

He weaves a spell inside of me and I break it when I turn my head to breathe.  I grin as I suddenly remember part of last night.  “Did you honestly ask me to marry you last night?”

His heartfelt groan as he buries his face into my neck causes me to laugh.  I know it was said in a moment of stoned bliss so I don’t hold him to it but instead I turn my lips to his ear as I whisper my answer, “Eventually.”

He pulls back to look down at me, a smile slowly transforming his features.  “That’s not a no.”

I lean up to kiss him again before I struggle out from under him as I speak, “That’s a maybe in five years and definitely in ten.”

He rolls to his side and watches my bare ass as I walk to the bathroom to start the shower.  When he answers me, I don’t think he intends for me to hear it all the way in another room with the sound of rushing water next to me but I do.  I hear it as if he’s standing right behind me whispering into my ear.  “I can wait.”

**Josh**

After Stormy exits the shower I watch her move around the room.  She has a set of drawers occupying the right side of the dresser but she heads to my side to grab a plain gray shirt and a pair of blue boxers.  I can hear her faintly humming and smile to myself.  I did that.

Her eyes are light and worry free when she turns to me and drops her towel, unabashedly comfortable in her nudity.  I only half hear her when she says, “Do not accept anything from my mom.  I don’t care if it’s a mint she found in the bottom of her purse.  There’s always a very good chance it’s laced with THC.”

I reach out for her as she steps into my boxers but she hops away and finishes dressing, her breasts bouncing as she does.  I lick my lips, trying to remember her warning.  “No mints, check.”

“And my dad will probably find a way to get naked.  I want you to remember that you are a big time movie star and if your dick is hanging out in public TMZ will find out.”

I reach for her again, my fingers brushing the smooth skin of her abdomen as she twists away from my touch, pulling the shirt overhead.  “Keep my pants on, check.”

She smooths down the material and then pins me with her eyes, serious business ahead.  “It’s not like last year, Josh.”  She climbs onto the bed beside me and rests on her knees, finally allowing my hand to rest on the warm skin of her thigh.  “A year ago you weren’t as recognizable as you are now.”

I sit up beside her and pull her towards me to rest against my chest.  “It’s not Coachella, Storm.  There aren’t going to be thousands of people around with cameras waiting to spot the famous people.”

She surprises me with her knowledge, I hadn’t been aware that she had previously gone to the concert but she says, “Coachella at least has a separate place for famous people.  Here you’re going to be among the masses.  Just a regular guy.”  Her lips rest against my neck as she winds her arms around me.  “Only problem is you’re not a regular guy.  So don’t let my parents talk you into doing something you’ll later regret.”

I brush a hand through her hair thoughtfully.  “Okay.  I’ll take it easy.”

A few hours later, after breakfast and a quick wardrobe change, we are on the lawn of Levitt Pavilion looking for a good spot to spread out the blanket Cathy had brought along.  Andre had mentioned making an appearance later but he had a few plans to finalize first for a handful of organizations.  That was fine with me.  I had Stormy by my side and that’s all I needed.

Bob came bearing gifts just as we found a spot not too near but not too far from the speakers.  He handed me a beer and Stormy a bottle of water before taking a seat on the other side of us.

When the music starts, the relaxing notes of a Grateful Dead cover song fills the air around us.  Halfway into the set Bob and Cathy are on their feet and dancing like the true Dead Heads they are.  A peaceful calm has settled into my bones and when Stormy smiles at me her whole face glows.

I try to smile back but I’m not sure if my lips are working so I lean in close and ask her, “Is my mouth working right?”

**Stormy**

I stare in confusion at Josh before shaking my head and responding, “Is your what?  Your mouth?”  I’m pretty sure I didn’t just hear him ask me that but I have to clarify in case he did.

He nods and laughs and says, “You’re really pretty.  Can I kiss you?”

I reach up and remove the sunglasses covering his eyes and close my own when I get a glimpse of how big his pupils are.  I replace them and run a hand against the stubble on his jaw.  “What did you take, baby?”

He holds up a red plastic cup and swishes whatever is inside it.  “Just a beer.”

I look over to our left where my parents are dancing, my dad clearly blitzed out of his mind as he waves his arms around and giggles madly.  I sigh and turn my attention back to Josh.  His sunglasses have dropped down his nose and he stares off in the opposite direction, a look of incredulousness splashed across his face.  “Hey.”  I follow his gaze but I don’t see anything except groups of people spread out among the lawn.  “Josh?”

I hear him mutter under his breath, “Son of a bitch.”

I turn my head to check out whatever he’s looking at, hoping to get a better glimpse of what has him so suddenly occupied.  “What?  What is it?”

“It’s back.”  He ducks suddenly and looks up at the air above us.  “And it has wings!”

My head is tilted back to check out what might be up in the sky but there’s nothing.  Not even a cloud.  The sky is blue and tranquil but that doesn’t stop Josh from freaking out beside me.  

He shields his eyes with his hands and then ducks and screams, flattening himself on his stomach on the blanket beneath us.  I look up at my parents with accusing eyes, their attention now on Josh, “Okay, which one of you drugged him this time?”

Bob pulls a plastic baggie out of his shorts pocket, little strips of paper cut up neatly inside of it.  “It was just a couple hits.”

Josh, with his arms crossed over his head, hiding his face against the ground, yells up to us, “Is it gone?”

I try to explain to him that it was never there to begin with but he doesn’t seem to believe me.  I finally convince him to roll over and he does, resting his head in the circle of my legs formed by me sitting indian style.  I instruct him to close his eyes while I get him to relax as my fingers brush through his hair, lulling him into a blissful splendor.

I keep track of my tripping parents as they move through the couples around us, introducing themselves and promoting free love.  Josh talks quietly about how he can feel his fingernails growing and did I know that nails don’t keep growing after you die.

I reply, “If you can feel them growing I guess that means you’re alive.”

He ponders that quietly, mumbling occasionally for the next hour, leaving me to enjoy the atmosphere.

I know I’ll have to take care of the situation with my parents tomorrow.  And Josh will likely forgive them since no one was hurt.  But that doesn’t make what they did okay.  I think of Josh’s mom and wish, not for the first time, that my parents were more like that.  Responsible adults.

I watch them stumble towards us and fall onto the blanket, laughing like little kids.  

Responsible adults might be asking too much.

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Josh**

The flight from L.A. to Paris is uneventful.  However many hours we have been tucked away in first class are the exact number of hours I am being driven crazy. 

I have been inside Stormy exactly once.  And since her parents left we haven’t spent any more nights together.  Our days have been filled with actual date-like activities and at the end of each one I kiss her and beg her to stay and her reply is always, “Not tonight.”

 

She knows I broke my timeline for myself.  I previously told her that we weren’t going to rush into things and here I was, aching with need to claim her again.  It is pathetic.  I am pathetic.  But Stormy is suddenly the voice of reason and now I have to constantly assure myself it isn’t because she doesn’t want me.  I know our first time wasn’t exactly special or significant.  But I don’t think it was horrible.  I hope it wasn’t.

She hasn’t allowed me to touch her since and she doesn’t seem interested in anything I want to do to her.  I am constantly reassuring myself that it is okay.  We are okay.

I thought we were. 

And then we boarded the plane at LAX and everything changed.  Stormy has dosed herself heavily, not wanting a repeat anxiety attack like the one she suffered coming home from visiting her parents after the New Year.  So she sleeps in the seat beside me, cocooned in one of Andre’s sweatshirts, with her feet pulled up onto the seat under her and using my arm as a pillow under her head.

I alternate staring out the window to studying her relaxed form.  Very rarely does she stir and occasionally I sit very still so I can listen to her breathing to make sure she is still alive.  When she does wake up it is to use the restroom and twice she orders a drink.  Then she slips back into a medicated sleep and I once again revert into my mind where I pretend I’m not falling apart.

We are going to Paris for a mixture of business and pleasure.  I have to promote a foreign film I helped produce nearly a year prior.  I also have to confront my past and let it go so I can move on with the future.  A future I hope is reclining beside me.  A future I’m not even sure wants to be with me anymore.

Stormy wakes up just minutes before we are warned about the possibility of a rough landing. She stretches and pops her back and then returns her seat to its upright position before securing her seatbelt.  All with the barest of glances over at me. 

When she is settled I reach for her hand and hold it in mine, offering and seeking comfort simultaneously.  I’m not sure I accomplish the former and I sure as hell don’t receive the latter. Still, this is Stormy.  And I can’t imagine her giving me the cold shoulder for any reason. 

Nearly an hour later we are checking into the hotel and being led up to a suite.  In the elevator Stormy stands beside me, just inches of air between us.  I purposely brush her arm with mine and swear I feel the hesitation in her body language for just a second before she sighs and leans into me.  By the time we get to the room I have an arm across her shoulder and she has her head resting beneath my chin as we walk alongside the bellhop and our minimal luggage.

It is dark outside of our floor to ceiling windows and I had forced myself to stay awake on the flight so I could trick myself out of jetlag for the trip.  I will pay for it double time when we return home but until then I am determined to be awake and alert during the day.  Stormy stands at the window and looks out at the skyline, arms crossed over her chest as she peers off into the distance.

I grab the room service menu and flip through our options before placing a call down to the front desk, ordering for both of us.  In the past two weeks we have been on countless lunch and dinner dates and I now know more about Stormy than I ever thought I would.

I know if she’s high she prefers Chinese food because eating with chopsticks is an adventure all in itself.  When she orders a beer she almost always orders a burger; we’ve been back to Lucky Devil’s more than once.  On the weekends she likes to pretend she watches what she eats and she usually orders salads, ruining any healthy choices she makes with the fattiest dressing they offer.  And when she’s homesick, a phase she went through right after her parents left to go back home, she likes grilled cheese and tomato soup.

I can’t imagine her wanting anything else right now so that’s what I order for her as well as a steak with all the trimmings for me.  After we eat I don’t bother to do more than strip out of my jeans and shirt and collapse into bed in my boxers and socks.  Stormy stays seated on the couch across the room even as I try to pull her into conversation.

“What are your plans for tomorrow while I’m doing press?”

She glances up at me from the book she’s reading.  The last in the Harry Potter series.  “I don’t know.  Probably window shop.”

I stare at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue but she returns to her book and that sudden feeling that something is very wrong follows me into sleep.

I wake up to my alarm and a cold empty area beside me.

I sit up, one hand rubbing my head in an attempt to wake up, and spot Stormy on the couch. She’s curled into a ball, Andre’s sweater tucked in around her like a blanket.

I swallow hard, suddenly realizing she never came to bed.  And I have to face the fact that something really isn’t right between us.  Instead of hopping in the shower to get ready for my day I get out of bed and go to the seating area.

My fingers brush her wild hair back from her face, affording me a clear look at her peaceful features.  I hate the idea of waking her up, but I hate the idea of something being wrong with us and not knowing what it is even more.

“Stormy.”  I have to repeat her name several times before she opens her eyes and looks up at me.  A look of confusion draws her eyebrows down into a question but then it must sink in where we are and she yawns and sits up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Josh?”  I don’t know what to say to her.  My mouth keeps opening but I’m afraid to ask questions in case there are answers I don’t want to hear.  Instead I scoop her up into my arms and she laughs and grabs onto my shoulders as I bear her weight.  “What are you doing?”

I can’t help but grin as she squeals and wiggles in my hold.  I carry her into the bathroom and even further into the walk-in shower.  I set her down on her feet and turn on the water, not giving it a chance to warm up.  Cold water sprays down at us from above and Stormy claps her hands and does a little twirl, fully clothed.  I hop from foot to foot, taking off my socks before shoving my boxers down over my hips and thighs until they land in a sopping pile around my bare feet.  I step out of them and then reach for her.

I don’t have to reach far.  She’s right there, hair matted to her face and clothes sagging off her frame.  She comes willingly, stepping into my space while her hands touch my water slick chest. Her fingers play with the patch of hair between my pecs and then spread out to the sides until she reaches my nipples.  Her fingers tweak and pinch and soothe and finally with a low moan that sounds much like a purr she moves forward and latches onto a nipple with her lips.

My cock hardens as she laves each bud with her tongue.  I reach for her sweater and instead of letting me help she yanks it off, her tight tee shirt following and her jeans and panties are divested quickly as well.  She doesn’t give me time to admire the view or even touch her.  She falls to her knees in front of me and as she licks me from balls to head, circles, and then surges forward taking me to the back of her throat, I forget about everything.  Nothing else matters. What happened in the last few weeks, her distance, everything suddenly leaves my thoughts. 

My mind is focused on her mouth wrapped around my dick and the noises she makes when I thrust into her.  Beyond that, I care about nothing except returning the pleasure to her.  When I reach down to pull her up she shakes her head and her mouth leaves me long enough to say, “Let me, Josh.  Just let me do this for you.”  And when I would normally be uncomfortable with receiving and not reciprocating, the pleading look in her eyes convinces me that this is what she wants.

All she wants is to please me.  And as I tilt my head back and let the water wash over us, she does

**Stormy**

 

After our shower Josh leaves to do his press junket.  I do wander outside and down a few blocks to take in the sights and the shops around us.  I don’t last long on my own and soon I find my way back to our room where I get out my laptop and check for any messages. 

I only do this once a week and there are plenty of notes from my agent and a few from my parents, enough to keep me busy until Josh returns. 

When he gets back it’s still early afternoon and he is somber when he asks me if we can go now.

I don’t have to ask him what it is he wants to go do.  I know he needs the closure and as much as I would like to take a day to store up some strength before subjecting myself to an emotional upheaval, I agree that now is fine.

Our hotel is a short walk from the metro and from there we travel to the Pont de l’Archevêché. Josh already has his pockets full and we walk halfway down the bridge until we’re just above the middle arch before he stops and studies the padlocks in affixed to the bridge in front of us.  I can tell he wants to speak and I can only imagine how difficult this must be for him so I start him off by asking, “How old were you?”

 

“I was sixteen, just turned sixteen actually.  She was a few months younger than me.”

I stand beside him and watch him twirl the lock around his finger nervously.  I put a steadying hand to his arm and rub gently, silently nudging him to keep talking.  After a pregnant pause he does. 

“I would have waited for her.  She wanted to grow up and get married and have kids and travel and see the world – Paris, The North Pole, The Congo – everywhere.”  His sunglasses hide tears I can’t see but can hear in his hoarse voice.  “I told her I would take her.  I promised.”  He turns his head just enough to let me know he’s looking at me now and I nod for him to continue.  I don’t want him to hold back because of me.  “I loved her.  I really did.  I knew she had a solid expiration date.  I didn’t let her sickness rule my emotions.  I didn’t pity her because she was dying.  I envied her because she was courageous up until the very end.  When she died I knew I would never love anyone again.  Not like that.” 

His eyes turn away and I’m not sure what he’s seeing now, if it’s here on the bridge with us or something from his past, but he says in a lowered voice, “I fucked a lot of girls.  I broke a lot of hearts.”  I close my eyes against his admission but I stay strong and tighten my grip on his arm, letting him know I am here for him.  “I was a total asshole until Connor told me to grow the fuck up.”  His short laugh is real, genuine, and I smile because Connor seems like the no nonsense type.  “He told me that Lizzy would kick my ass if she saw how I was behaving.  So I stopped.  I swore off girls altogether.  Until Vanessa.  And then it was my turn to get my heart broken. Maybe I knew all along it would happen.  Karma or penance or something like that.  Maybe Lizzy thought I needed some payback for being such a dick for those couple of years after her.” 

I bite my lip to keep my words inside, knowing he needs to talk, not listen.  After a few minutes of silence where he just stares down at the brass lock cupped in his palm, he says, “Then I met you.”

I look from his hand to his face to find he’s staring back at me with such an intensity I can’t look away.

“I met you and the whole time I sat beside you in the grass I could only think, ‘Wait until I tell Connor.’”  He steps close to me, pressing his chest to mine and leaning down to kiss me, his lips salty with tears.  “And then you didn’t call me and I thought I was going to be alone forever.”

I don’t know why I say it or how I remember her name but I ask, “What about Theresa?”

Josh pulls back, stunned for a second before he laughs and touches his fingers to the sleeve of the sweatshirt I’m wearing, remembering the night we met his ex to get his things back.  “She was supposed to help me forget about you.  I actually thought I had.  And then I saw you at the Catching Fire premier and I was a goner.  Again.”

I grin and look away, out along the bridge where tourists study different locks. 

“She told me about you.”

My brow furrows in confusion.  “Who did?”

“Lizzy.”

I cut my eyes to him and stare at him as if he’s lost his mind.  “What are you talking about?”

Josh just shakes his head and turns, putting an arm around me and leading me to the railing. With the key he unlocks the padlock and then squats down.  He responds matter-of-factly.  “She just knew you were coming.”  He pulls a sharpie from his pocket and draws a quick heart and the initials J + L inside of it with the year ’08.  To my surprise he flips it over and on the other side he draws a similar heart and in small print writes Josh and Stormy.  He dates it 2013-forever.  He’s gone back a year to when we first met.  “Lizzy was my beginning.  My first love.”  He gives my hand a tug and pulls me down to crouch beside him.  “And you’re my last love.  You’re my fairytale ending.”

I place a hand over my mouth as he hooks the U bar across a chain link among countless other locks and then clicks it closed.  Tears fall from my eyes but I can’t control them.  I never expected this.  It is a surprise.  A complete surprise.  When he stands he pulls me up with him and then he kisses the key and holds it out for me to kiss as well.  I do, reverently, honored that he would include me in this moment of his.  And after he says, “To the girl who showed me what it was to love.  And to the woman who has my heart, my soul, and my undying and unyielding devotion.” My voice is a bare breath as I whisper, “To us,” in agreement.  And then he tosses it into the water below and doesn’t watch to see it hit the surface or watch it disappear.  His eyes are already on me and his arms encircle me, pulling me to him. 

“Thank you, Stormy.”

I nod but I don’t answer.  I can’t because I don’t have any words.  So I just hold him tight and let him take his comfort where he can.  No longer afraid that I’ll never be good enough or measure up to what he’s had.  Because now I know that he has moved on.  He’s moved on with me.


	30. Chapter 30

**Josh**

 

Stormy looks up at me from her notes and smiles, brushing Mona away with her words, “I’ll be fine.  I promise to behave and watch my language.”

 

Mona looks her roommate over once more and pushes a piece of hair behind Stormy’s ear which Stormy promptly lets fall forward back into her eyes.  Mona throws her hands up and yells, “Fine!  Look like a cracked out witch on national television!”

 

I watch as she stomps from the room and Stormy shrugs indifferently before getting up from the stool next to the wardrobe rack.  She didn’t bother to change what she is wearing.  Her summer dress and unconventional Chuck Taylors look fine to me.  The outfit is very her and I hold open my arms as she comes to stand next to me.  Not so long ago we were here for another reason.  Now it’s Stormy’s turn in the spotlight.  The movie based off of her book starts production in the fall and with her second book done and due for print later this month, Conan graciously asked her onto his show after a cancellation in his line up.

 

Stormy is calmer than I’ve ever been getting ready to go on television.  I wonder if she is maybe in the wrong profession, and belongs in front of a camera instead of behind a laptop.  I’m a little surprised that she isn’t succumbing to any panic attacks but then I take in her posture as she sinks down into the sofa cushion beside me and I realize she’s not entirely sober.

 

“Are you high?”

 

She glances up at me with a small smirk, her eyes clear and blue and I marvel at how much of a functioning stoner my girlfriend is.  Her answer makes me laugh, “Just a little.”  And then she giggles adorably as she hides her face in the short sleeve of my shirt.  I shake my head and pull her close, enjoying the down time before I have to share her with the rest of the world.

 

I’m not worried about how she’ll do.  Conan is an old friend of hers and I know he’ll treat her respectfully.  The only time I worry about Stormy is when she doesn’t want to touch me.  Since Paris, that hasn’t been an issue.

 

I know now that she felt she was intruding on a special moment between Lizzy and myself.  She had wanted to give me the space I needed to say goodbye without crowding me out.  I told her next time I would prefer the crowding but that I understood why she did what she did.  And she explained to me that it had never been her intention to make me question whether or not she wanted to be with me.

 

For that I’m extremely grateful.

 

We watch the opening monologue on the flat screen situated on the table in front of us.  Stormy snickers at a raunchy joke made at Andy Richter’s expense and then the first guest is introduced.  He’s an actor I’ve never worked with but he has an impressive resume and the knock on the door comes soon enough.

 

Stormy gets up and stretches and makes her way to the door to answer her call time.  I’m right behind her, matching her step for step.  We stop next to a woman outfitted with a head set and a clipboard and Mona comes out of nowhere to strap a battery pack to the back of the tied bow at the waist of her dress and a mic to the material above her cleavage.  “Okay.  Just go out there and be your charming self.”

 

Stormy grins at Mona and nods her head, “Aye – aye, Captain.”

 

Mona’s eyes narrow at Stormy and then shift over to me.  Out of the corner of her mouth she asks, “Is she high?”

 

I fold my lips inward and shrug, unwilling to answer that out loud.  Stormy just smiles and looks between us.   The woman next to  Mona holds a hand up, signaling a five second cue and then lowers her fingers one by one.  Stormy gives me a quick kiss and says, “For luck,”  before she squeezes my ass in her hand and then walks out from between the parted curtains to Conan’s introduction.

 

I stand side by side with Mona, holding my breath until she makes it up the stairs.  First she gives Conan a hug followed by Andy with a casual handshake for the actor that sits in a separate chair beside her.

 

Stormy gives all of her attention to Conan and plays off his words beautifully.  Mona whispers something and I strain to hear her, quickly realizing she’s repeating, “Don’t mention Josh.  Don’t mention Josh.”  And then I hear Conan’s curious voice, “How was your trip to Europe a few weeks ago?  Are you and Josh still a hot item?”

 

Stormy bites her lip and smiles and pats Conan’s desk playfully, “Where did you hear that?  I thought we were doing a good job of not going public.”

 

The audience laughs because just last week we’d been exiting a nightclub and Stormy had

blown a kiss at the paparazzi.  Our picture, her making gestures and me laughing at her antics, had warranted us the front page of Us Weekly.  Another picture of me giving her a piggy back ride when we went to the Santa Monica pier earlier in the month, had made People with the headline ‘Are they or aren’t they?’.  My publicist has given up at this point and Stormy doesn’t have one so she doesn’t care.

 

Conan responds, “Are you ever intimidated by his fans when you guys go out?”

 

She shakes her head immediately, softly.  “Nah.  Sometimes they call me, “Hey, you” instead of my name but other than that they’re perfectly polite.  Most of the time I end up taking the picture.”

 

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

 

Stormy looks confused, “No.  Why would it?  Josh is an amazing actor with a loyal fan base.  I’m proud to know him and support that relationship he has in public.”

 

After a round of applause in which Stormy looks somewhat shocked Conan moves on to ask questions about her book to movie.  “Do you have any say in the script or casting or anything?”

 

I watch her interact with everyone and suddenly I can’t wait until next year when we get to go to Africa together.  I can only imagine how she’ll come across to viewers.  She’s an absolute natural, high or not.

 

A little bit later the show wraps and I stay where I am, waiting for her to come to me.   She and Conan sit with their heads together, talking about who knows what when the other guest of the show slips back stage and spots me.  He smiles and heads over, holding his hand out.  I shake his hand in greeting and he says, “That’s one hell of a woman you have there.”

 

I’m nodding before he even finishes his sentence.  “Yeah.  She’s something else.”

 

She is currently showing Conan that she can touch her tongue to her nose and I laugh, unable to suppress my enjoyment of her.

 

When she finally joins me Conan is right behind her and he walks with us towards the offices down a long hallway.  “I was just asking Stormy if she’d be interested in hosting a late night show.  She’s an absolute natural.”  Stormy rolls her eyes as the host rubs a hand over the top of her hair playfully.

 

“I’ll leave the entertainment to you.  I wouldn’t want to put you out of work or anything.”

 

She jumps off to the side as Conan reaches for her, laughing at her comeback.  He points at her, mock-lecturing her.  “Look, little girl.”  She grins and ducks under my arm for safety and Conan smiles.  “It was good seeing you two.  Thanks for doing this last minute.”

 

It was my understanding that there had been a cancellation and when Conan had asked his staff if anyone had connections Mona had immediately offered up Stormy.  And Stormy had been delighted to help out.  Her response, “Any time.”  As we walk away resonates deep inside me.  I realize in this moment that she didn’t do this for herself.  Even though she got some publicity she didn’t see her acceptance of volunteering as anything other than her helping out a friend.  And that is one of the reasons I love her so much.

 

We part ways, Mona waving to us as we exit, and once we get outside we’re both asked for autographs.  I stand back and let Stormy have her moment but it doesn’t last long as she reaches for my hand and pulls me forward with her.  She says just loud enough for me to hear, “Don’t leave your fans disappointed, Josh.”  I feel her hand on my back, pushing me towards a waiting group of girls who yell for me.  I don’t hesitate and once again I wonder if Stormy realizes this is for her.

 

**Stormy**

 

We get home just as the sun is setting.  Josh and I haven’t talked about me moving in yet but I know he wants to.  Just like I know he’ll wait until he’s sure I’m ready.  He runs around to my side of the car and opens the door for me.  It’s something I will never take for granted and I kiss him as a thank you every time he performs a gentlemanly act.  I understand now that in the past Josh wasn’t lucky enough to have someone who appreciated his gentler touches.  His mama raised him right and instead of punishing him for treating me like something to be taken care of, I reward him.  I would have him no other way.

 

We barely make it through the front door when we smell the fragrant aroma of incense coming from the bedrooms.  “Is Andre home?”

 

Josh shrugs as he puts his keys on the counter.  “I hope so.  Or else someone broke in to rob the place and got sidetracked by your medicine cabinet.”

 

I laugh and lead the way down the hall to the master suite.  Josh steps in front of me and nudges the door open slowly.  Andre, Rob and Caitlin are all gathered on the king size bed we left unmade this morning.  Bags of chips and sleeves of cookies are strewn across the bedspread and Josh crosses his arms.  “What did you do to my bed?”

 

Caitlin spots us and grins before popping a chip into her mouth.  “We defiled it.”

 

I laugh and take off my shoes, unlacing each high top before kicking them off into the corner.  Then I scurry up onto the mattress behind Andre’s head and crawl to the middle where there’s a space between his boyfriend and Caitlin.  I reach for the bowl sitting on its side in the ashtray and Andre reaches across to offer me a lighter.  I wave Josh over and he grudgingly walks around the bed.  Caitlin and I switch spots automatically so I can be beside him with Josh on the outside.  I pack the bowl and light it and breathe in deeply.  There’s a black and white rerun of I Love Lucy playing on the TV hanging from the wall.  I listen to the three of our companions do their best impersonations and laugh along with Lucy’s hijinks.

 

I’m more interested in the man beside me.

 

I trap the smoke in my lungs, holding it there for a sweet suspended moment before grabbing Josh’s shirt with my free hand and pulling him close to me.  I part my lips and press them to his before exhaling into his mouth.  He inhales, taking my breath with him and then he kisses me, lips slanting over mine and tongue sweeping along the ridge of my teeth.

 

I moan low at the taste of him.  Forgetful of our audience I turn to straddle him, my legs on the outsides of his.

 

We haven’t been this close since Paris and my hips immediately lower onto his to rub against him.  Vaguely I feel the bed move but I don’t break the magnetic connection I have with Josh’s eyes.  My lips are inches from his when I surface for air and the hazel of his eyes is magnified by my proximity.

 

His hands shift to my hips and pull down at the same time he thrusts up and I have to catch my breath.  The rough texture of denim against the insides of my bare thighs robs me of all rational thought and I can’t help the noises that escape from me as I tear at my dress.

 

Josh sits up at an angle and lifts his shirt off over his head and I nearly weep at the beautiful sight of his perfect chest.  He’s not overly muscular and the definition of his pecs with the smattering of chest hair between them makes me weak.  I waste no time sitting up and tearing my dress off, the zipper down the side getting stuck twice in the process.  Josh lays back, a satisfied smile on his face as my breasts are bared to him.  His hands are still on my hips, his thumbs brushing back and forth against the lace edge of my panties.  I catch the way he licks his lips and I realize the look he levels at me is one of amusement.

 

I swat his chest and ask, “What?  What’s so funny?”

 

He trails his hands behind me to cup my ass and pulls me towards him, rubbing me back and forth against his straining bulge.  “You want me bad.”  His voice has a cocky edge to it but I can’t argue and I even grin a little as he sits up, wrapping his arms around my waist.  “Do you want to?”

 

I lift a regal brow at him.  “Do I want to what?”

 

He nudges against me, “You know.”

 

“Say it,” I whisper as I nip at his top lip, “or you’ll get nothing.”

 

He takes me by surprise with a sudden roll towards the middle of the bed and I feel a bag crinkle under my back.  I laugh as I cup his face in my hands and deliver a soft kiss to his smiling lips.  His voice is smooth and slides against me in all the right places when he breathes, “Do you want to make love?”

 

I catch my breath, all hints at playfulness suddenly gone and I can see the hesitation in his eyes, silently asking me if his words were a good choice.

 

I answer him by popping open the button fly of his jeans and reaching for the erection so prominently on display in his boxers.  I reach down past the elastic band and grip him firmly before responding.  “I want you in me.  And this time I want you to make me scream your name.”

 

His eyes flash from cautious to devious as he reaches past my arm to another bag of chips.  I wonder what he’s up to but when he pulls his hand back it’s covered with reddish orange dust.  He leans down and circles his tongue around one of my nipples before he moves to the next, his fingers cupping the smooth globe of my breast and rolling the debris onto my pink areola.  Then he moves to the next, brushing against my sensitive peak with his fingers.

 

He holds his fingers to my mouth and I recognize the cheesy powder before I suck a digit into my mouth, pulling him deep and licking him clean.  Josh groans and leans down to capture a nipple in his mouth and I strain towards him, arching my back upwards towards the wetness of his thorough tongue.  My hands are down on his hips, pushing his jeans and boxers down as far as I can before using my knees to slide them the rest of the way off.  I didn’t see him remove his shoes but he must have because my feet tangle with his for a moment before he switches to my other breast and paying it the same special attention.

 

I curve towards him, my hand traveling up his back to hold onto his head as I move against him.

 

I cry out in need, my slick panties the only barrier between us, and urge him to hurry.  “Now.  Now, oh god.  I need you inside.”

 

Josh makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and releases my nipple with a loud pop.  He stretches his arm high above me, reaching for the night stand.  I take advantage of the position and lean up, sinking my teeth into the soft skin of his bicep right beside his armpit.  Josh jerks his hand back, a foil packet caught between two fingers.  He tears it open with a growl and reaches down to suit up.  I bring my leg up as high as I can to remove my panties, leaving them to dangle from my right thigh and opening myself up to him fully.

 

My hands grab onto his ass and I direct him to me, craving the touch of him deep inside.  Josh stares down at me, waiting.  I pull a little harder but he doesn’t budge.  In my frustration I yell at him, “Josh!  Get in me right this second!”

 

His satisfied smile hits me at the same time he plunges into my heat.  I throw my head back, uncaring that he got me to scream his name without him actually being inside me.  This time isn’t like the last.  My parents aren’t on the other side of the door and Josh isn’t holding still inside of me.  Although he may as well be.

 

He pauses when he first enters me as if savoring the moment and then he drags out so slowly I swear I can feel the ridge of his head.  I don’t have the patience he does and I slap him in the side, right above his black and red tattoo.  “Harder.”

 

Josh ignores me and grunts as he pushes back in, little increments at a time.  I cry out in unfairness.  “Harder, Josh.”

 

He continues his slow pace and pauses when he’s fully seated inside before he flexes and hits a button inside of me, sending stars to dance in my vision.

 

And then he retreats and I scream for him.  “No!  No, go back!  Do it again.”  My voice has changed and Josh’s face transforms as he pushes into me hard, pushing me up the bed, and then he flexes again and I scream, nails digging into his back.  He realizes what he’s done and he does it again with unerring accuracy.  My toes curl and my back arches and I bite down on his arm as I release a primal scream.  I can feel it building.  I know it’s there, just lying in wait.  Josh seems to know too.  He hikes my leg up his side and holds it there as he grunts, pulling back and then sliding into home.  The angle of my lifted hips puts him right where I need him to be and with a few more thrusts I unravel to a symphony of nerve endings firing off inside me.  From my toes to my ears I tingle as I come.

 

Uncaring of who can hear us or where we are, I cry out his name like a prayer.  Josh doesn’t stop.  Once he finds that spot he’s ruthless and continues to hit it over and over until I can’t control the shaking in my legs and I push against him, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to keep on going.

 

He seems to take the hint and slow down enough for me to catch my breath.  When we’re back on an even track he leans down and says, his lips on mine, “This is where I belong.”

 

I feel the tears spring up in my eyes and I push his hair back from his face as I kiss him softly, letting him know that I am ready to accept that.  I’m ready to be his everything.

 


	31. Epilogue

**Driver**  
  
  
 _December 3, 2018_  
  
Last night mistress watched a commercial and she cried for almost an hour.  It was cute; it had lots of mommy animals cuddling with their baby animals.  At first when she started crying I got up from my spot in front of the fireplace and checked to see if she was okay.  She just patted my head and played with my ear, reaching for a tissue with her other hand.  I wished dad was home but he left a while ago and hasn’t been back yet.  I see him in the flat screen that mistress puts on the bed sometimes.  She cuddles with the pillows and talks to his face.  It confuses me.  I can see him and hear him and sometimes he asks me if I’m being a good boy but I can’t climb on his lap so I just ignore him.  I sleep on his side of the bed now and get to have mistress wrap her arms around me in the middle of the night.  She whispers my name and uses my side as a pillow and she always tells me that daddy will be back soon.  
  
He always comes back.  
  
I wish he would come back soon.  
  
Something is wrong with my mistress and I don’t know how to fix it.  
  
  
 _December 4, 2018_  
  
MISTRESS TOOK ME TO THE DOG PARK!  
  
I ran far and caught lots of frisbees.  I know what they are because mistress always says, “Get the frisbee, Driver!” as she flings it into the air.  I always catch it and bring it back, proud of myself because she rubs my face with her hands and kisses me between my eyebrows before taking it from me.  Sometimes I want to play tug and I don’t let it go easily.  Mistress doesn’t mind.  She grabs with both hands and holds on tight, letting me shake my head playfully.  
  
Today was different.  
  
Today when I wanted to play tug she just shook her head and said, “Not today, Driver.”  
  
We came home after that.  
  
Mistress says dad has been gone for 35 days.  11 more and he’ll be home.  
  
Mistress says this year we’ll get a real Christmas tree.  She stares at me a moment with her eyebrows arched high, giving me “that” look.  I mentally remind her that I was much younger the first time we had a real one.  It wasn’t my fault it smelled like a bunch of other animals.  It was my duty to mark it so everyone would know whose it was.  
  
I love Christmas because we get to open presents and then we get to go see grandma and grandpa.  They have lots of cold, wet stuff covering up their grass, to play in and grandma gives me cookies with sprinkles.  She gives me hugs and kisses too and she smells like love.    
  
Mistress smells like love too but she doesn’t give me cookies.  
  
She tells me we have to watch my weight.  
  
The doctor said now that I’m older and less active we have to watch to make sure I stay as fit as possible.  No more table scraps he said.  
  
I dislike him.  
  
Mistress cries again today but this time it’s a song on the radio in the car.  She slaps her hand against the knob to turn it off and she rubs her eyes with her hand at a stoplight.  
  
I think she might be sick.  
  
When we get home I stay close to her side.  It’s still daylight out but she crawls into bed and pats dad’s side to invite me up.  I curl as close to her as I can and put my head on her shoulder.  I watch her close her eyes and sniffle and I give her a kiss to make it feel better.  She snuggles into me and tells me she’s sorry she ended our trip to the park so soon.  She tells me she’ll play tug with me tomorrow.  Maybe we’ll go to the  beach.  
  
  
 _December 5, 2018_  
  
We don’t go to the beach.  Mistress doesn’t get out of bed.  I lay by her side all day and make use of the doggy door when I need to do my business.  
  
When dad isn’t here it’s my responsibility to take care of mistress.  He told me before he left with  
  
his duffel bag, “Okay, Driver.  I’m going to be gone for a little longer than usual.  It’s your job to take care of Stormy.  Can you do that for me, boy?”  
  
I had barked and nodded excitedly.  Mistress was one of my favorite people.  If something happened to her I would be very sad.  Of course I would take care of her.  
  
Dad had gotten down on his knees and hugged me tight, kissing my cheek and the top of my head.  He said, “I love you, be good while I’m gone.”  
  
I’m always good.  
  
Mistress only gets up to go to the bathroom.  
  
I’m scared but I try not to whine.  I’m a good boy.  
  
  
 _December 6, 2018_  
  
Mistress cried all morning and finally she called my other dad.  
  
“Andre?  I’m not feeling too good.  If you aren’t too busy could you come get Driver and take him to the park?”  
  
I hear other dad’s voice from the nightstand where he talks out of a speaker.  
  
“Sure, Storm, what’s going on?”  
  
“I think it’s just a bug.  I don’t want him to have to suffer too, though.”  
  
“No problem.  I’ll be over in an hour and we’ll go to the beach for a while.”  
  
“Thank you, Andre.  You’re the best.”  
  
Other dad laughs and says, “Now that I know.”  
  
They say bye and I run around excited.  I get to go to the beach.  I love the beach.  The sand feels neat on my paws and there are birds to chase and waves to play in and sometimes other dogs to run with.  Andre always brings lots of yellow fuzzy balls to play with in case we lose one or another dog decides he wants one.  I’m so happy!  I jump up and down and mistress laughs, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  She gets out of bed long enough to pack a beach bag with a towel, water bottles, my travel dish, a tube of balls and my car seat harness.  She takes many breaks and has to lean against a table, a wall, the counter.  
  
Andre comes and gets me.  I’m excited to see him and I really want to go to the beach.  
  
But I don’t want to leave mistress.  
  
She tells me not to get into too much trouble and waves at us as we get in the car and Andre buckles me in.  My eyes stay on her as we pull out of the driveway.  
  
The beach is fun and when we come home I’m exhausted.  Mistress is already asleep so Andre gives me fresh water and food and stares into the bedroom for a moment, watching mistress sleep.  He leaves the door open so I can go to bed when I’m done eating dinner and he goes into the living room and sits on the arm of the couch, pulling out his phone.  
  
He calls someone and I can only hear his side of the conversation.  
  
“Hey, man.  Busy?”  
  
-  
  
“Look, I don’t know if you’ve talked to Stormy lately-“  
  
-  
  
“I don’t know, there’s something wrong with her.  She called me today to come get Driver because she wasn’t feeling well.  We went to the beach and played but his heart wasn’t really in it.”  
  
-  
  
“She’s sleeping.  Do you want me to wake her up?”  
  
-  
  
“Okay.  Yeah, I’ll leave her a note.”  
  
-  
  
“Alright, brother.  Take it easy.”  
  
Andre writes a note and goes in the bedroom to put it on the nightstand.  He touches the back of his hand to mistress’s forehead and shrugs.  He pulls the blanket up around her and turns off the light above the bed.  He gives me a hug and tells me he had fun today.  He tells me to take good care of Stormy.  I wait for him to leave before I get on the bed and get comfortable.  I’m asleep in no time at all, worn out from my day.  
  
  
 _December 7, 2018_  
  
I wake up to the sound of mistress in the bathroom.  She’s crying and when I go see to her she’s sitting on the floor, her legs are sprawled out under her.  Her cheek is resting on the seat of the toilet and her hands are shaking.  I lay down in the doorway and watch her.  
  
She gets sick a lot and at some point she crawls into the shower and sits on the tile after turning on the water.  She shivers and pulls her knees up to her chest and rocks back and forth.  I watch her through the glass door.  Eventually she turns the water off and crawls back out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel.  She lays down on the cold tile floor and curls onto her side.  She cries herself to sleep.  
  
I miss dad.  
  
  
 _December 8, 2018_  
  
During the night mistress moved from the bathroom to the bedroom and fell asleep on top of the blanket wrapped in her towel still.  
  
Her phone rings and she looks over at it but doesn’t even try to reach it or answer it.  She just closes her eyes and falls back asleep.  
  
I notice while I’m laying with my back pressed up against her back that she smells different.  
  
I get up and sniff at her hand, then her side and her stomach.  She weakly bats my nose away with her hand.  “Stop it, Driver.”  I ignore her and continue trying to find the smell.  I stop when she groans out my name as if she’s in pain.  I can’t pinpoint it but she smells like flowers and metal.  She doesn’t smell like love anymore.  
  
  
 _December 9, 2018_  
  
Other dad comes over early in the morning.  Mistress is still in her towel, curled into a ball near the foot of the bed.  She wakes up when he lifts her into his arms and carries her out of the room.  I don’t walk in front of him because I don’t want him to trip so I stay very close behind him.  
  
Mistress wraps her arms around him and weeps softly at being jostled.  She keeps saying she’s sorry and other dad looks very upset.  He keeps one arm wrapped around her as he grabs a pair of dad’s boots and stuffs her feet in them, not bothering with the laces.  Then he grabs dad’s coat and zips it up to her chin.  He picks her up in his arms and takes her outside, settling her gently into the backseat of his car.  
  
He points towards the door and tells me to go back inside.  “Come on, Driver.  You stay here.  I’ll be back as soon as possible.”  
  
I obey because he is my other dad and because I know the sooner I listen the sooner he can get mistress help.  
  
I watch him close and lock the door.  Then I am all alone.  
  
I lay down in the hallway and keep watch on the door.  
  
I am very scared but I am also brave and I will protect the house while they are gone.  
  
  
 _December 10, 2018_  
  
Other dad’s friend, Rob, comes over to make sure I have food and water.  I like Rob.  He takes me outside to play ball but I don’t want to.  
  
I want my mistress.  
  
Rob stays for a few hours and watches TV..  I sit beside him and he pets my head.  I put my chin on his knee and huff out a breath.  He tells me everything will be fine.  He tells me Stormy will be back tomorrow and that she probably misses me just as much as I miss her.  
  
I don’t think that’s possible.  
  
Rob is nice but he is not mistress and when he leaves I go to bed and rest my head against mistress’s pillow.  
  
I want my mistress.  
  
  
 _December 11, 2018_  
  
Mistress comes home and other dad holds on to her as he leads her over to the couch.  He fixes her tea while she settles into the cushions.  I wait patiently as she gets comfortable and then she reaches a hand out for me and I jump on the couch, my whole lower half wiggling back and forth.    
  
She laughs and grabs my collar, pulling me closer to her.  She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight.  
  
“I missed you, D.  Were you a good boy?”  
  
Of course I was.  I explain this to her as I lick her face and she turns away, giggling. She looks very tired so I lay down after one last kiss and rest my face in her lap.  She still smells like flowers and metal but she smells of love as well.  
  
Andre offers to stay the whole day and she waves him off, her hand pressed against her stomach.  She says, “I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for everything, Andre.” He gives her the tea and she kisses him on the cheek. He leaves with the promise that he’ll be by to check in later and then we’re all alone in the empty house.  
  
I’m so happy to have mistress home.  
  
I still miss dad.  
  
  
 _December 12, 2018_  
  
Mistress took me for a walk today. She says dad will be home in 3 days and things are going to change.  
  
I don’t mind change.  When I was a puppy I almost died. Then dad adopted me. He went away for work a lot but Andre stayed home with me. We travelled a lot until dad adopted mistress too.  
  
Not all change is bad.  
  
She throws up once or twice a day but then she makes tea and eats crackers and she feels better. Sometimes she gives me a cracker and says, “Screw the vet. Life’s too short without table scraps.”  
  
I am glad my mistress is back.  
  
  
 _December 13, 2018_  
  
We wake up early and go for a morning jog. When we get home mistress drags me into the shower with her. She shuts the glass door before I can escape and then she makes me smell all clean. Afterwards she lets me out and then she showers. She tells me she wants me to smell clean for when dad gets home.  
  
For lunch she makes us peanut butter sandwiches and we sit in front of the fire.  It’s a real fire and she toasts marshmallows to put between Graham crackers.  She feeds me two and has one herself.  I am so happy to have my mistress back.  
  
For dinner she cooks soup and dances around the kitchen to the music from the speaker. I bark along while she sings into a wooden spoon. She stops once to throw up in the sink and after holding a wet cloth the back of her neck for a moment she eats a cracker and goes back to dancing.  When we sit on the couch I lay my head in her lap and she brings over the flat screen that dad is in.  
  
A few minutes later he is smiling at us and mistress is touching his face. She traces his jaw and his lips as he blows her a kiss.  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
“So much better. Driver is taking great care of me.”  
  
“I bet.” Dad laughs and I smile at the sound. They talk for a while and then dad says, “I can’t wait to be home.”  
  
Mistress smiles and blows him a kiss.  She picks up my paw and waves to dad.  “We can’t wait for you to be home.  Flight hasn’t changed?”  
  
“Nope. Still coming into LAX at 8pm.  Are you sure you’re okay to pick me up?  I can always grab a cab.”  
  
“Josh, I told you I’m doing better.  I’ll be there.”  
  
“As long as you’re sure.”  
  
They stare at each other in silence for a few minutes, studying each others faces.  
  
Dad speaks first and says, “I love you so fucking much,  Stormy.”  
  
Stormy claps and laughs and then puts her hands over her mouth to hold in the girlish squeal that anyone over the age of 30 should not be able to emit.  She lowers her hands and grins widely. “I love you too, Josh. More than anyone and anything ever.” I perk my ears at that but I understand she has to say that so she doesn’t hurt his feelings.  They say goodbye and then Stormy hugs me to her.  
  
“Tomorrow we’re going to the park.”  
  
I pick my head up and smile at her.  
  
I knew she loved me more.  
  
  
 _December 14, 2018_  
  
I woke up with the promise of going to the dog park. Mistress talked to me as she got dressed.  “Daddy’s coming home tomorrow!”  After we shared a poptart she grabbed my front paws and put them on her shoulders and we danced and laughed in the kitchen.  
  
We went to the park and ran around. People shouted at us and took our picture.  After playing frisbee and an exciting game of tug we leave to go get ice cream.  The place we go to has flavors for me too and we go to a bench nearby and sit.  More people take our picture and a stranger asks mistress if shes ready for dad to come home. She just smiles and waves and says she’s more than ready.  The stranger doesn’t get very close.  
  
I smell fear and believe he’s scared of me.  
  
I don’t know why. I lick my lips and stare intently at him.  I love strangers.  
  
He leaves suddenly and mistress laughs and kisses me.  
  
“Good boy, Driver.”  
  
I smile and finish my ice cream cone.  
  
  
 _December 15, 2018_  
  
Mistress sings all day.  
  
We play ball and run and I watch while she bakes cookies.  
  
Dad comes home today and we are both excited.  Today she smells like love and flowers and she doesn’t get sick at all.  
  
She leaves me at home and promises that when she gets back she’ll have dad with her.  
  
I watch through the window as she leaves.  I watch through the window until she comes back.    
  
When she comes home I see dad get out of the car first.  He grabs his duffel from the backseat and then puts his arm around mistress as they come to the front door.  
  
DAD IS HOME!  
  
I jump all around and he drops his bag and sits down on the floor to hug me and pet me. Mistress stands back, smiling, as I cover dad in kisses.  
  
He’s finally home and I can’t stop my excitement.  After a few minutes dad stands up and raises the front of his shirt to wipe off his face.  He thanks me for taking good care of mistress.  I smile, my tongue lolling to the side, as he traps mistress against the wall and kisses her.  I dance around them, excited and barking.  
  
Finally they both look down at me and I smile up at them as they laugh.  
  
After a late dinner, dad and mistress are sitting on the couch watching TV but also talking over the noise.  
  
“So, you’re feeling better? What was it-the flu? Andre told me it was pretty bad.”  
  
Mistress bites her lip and glances away.  Her fingers are playing with my ears.  “Actually there’s something I need to tell you.  It wasn’t the flu.”  
  
Dad leans away and looks down at me and then up at mistress. “What do you mean, not the flu? What’s wrong?”  
  
Mistress stops petting me and takes dad’s hand before putting it against her stomach where the smell of flowers is strongest.  “Congratulations, dad.”  
  
Dad’s jaw flexes and he swallows and he shakes his head.  “I’m going to be- We’re going to have- You’re pregnant?”  
  
Mistress laughs and nods, tears gathering in her eyes.  “Yes. Yes. And yes.”  
  
Dad laughs and grabs mistress under her arms then he stands up with her and picks her up. Mistress wraps her arms around his neck and he carries her to the bedroom, shutting the door in my face before I can catch up.  
  
I smile as I stare at the door. I can hear them laughing and talking and I am happy that my family is all together again.  
  
I lay down in the hallway and rest.  
  
Today has been an exciting day.


End file.
